


Tall Shadows

by Kolecho



Category: Ghostwriter (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kolecho/pseuds/Kolecho
Summary: Rob is diagnosed with a medical condition.  However, the team discovers that the reason for it is definitely not what anyone had expected.





	1. Beginning

Rob Baker felt a hand shaking his shoulder. He blearily looked up from his chin resting on his right hand to see his friend Jamal looking at him.

"Hey, class ended already," the dark-skinned boy said.

"What?" Rob asked in confusion. He glanced around the Science classroom. The room was half-empty, with most of the kids that were still there ready to leave. One student was talking up to the teacher, Mr. Jorkins.

He then frowned. Somehow, he must have slept through even the ending bell, which was kind of strange, since it was pretty loud. Then again, he had not really been feeling the best lately- for the past two weeks, actually. It was probably some random lingering cold he had gotten from who-knew-where.

A few students were out with the flu, and he sure hoped that he did not have it. Maybe he even had some low-grade version where only some tiredness- and some random dizziness here and there, but not too bad- was the only indicator.

He was pretty lucky the teacher had not caught him napping.

"You okay there?" Jamal asked him, looking concerned. "You look pretty beat."

Rob shrugged. "I'm fine," he said, attempting to sound a whole lot less tired than he actually was. He picked up his things from his desk and stood up. Hopefully he would be better soon- there was a science test coming up next week, as well as a math test. Making up those after school at some point did not seem like fun.

Jamal spoke up again as they headed out of the science room into the hallway, passing the same student still chatting with the teacher. "Hey, since I'm not needed in school tutoring today, so I'm free to go home now. We could walk home together."

Rob sighed at the obvious opinion that he should get home, even though he just plainly felt tired. Maybe he _should_ skip going to the computer lab today. For all he knew, he would fall asleep at the computer, with some random teacher finding him well after the after school activities had ended.

Rob shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess so," he answered.

He hoped that Jamal would not insist on walking him to his house- he was only a block away from where Jamal lived, but still. That would be kind of annoying.

"So why are you not needed for tutoring today?" he asked as they passed into another hallway.

Jamal looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Wow, you must be pretty out of it," he said. Rob cringed a bit, wondering what he had missed. His friend continued. "I had told you yesterday that the person I was tutoring was going to help Alex and Lenni today for helping some fifth graders at one of the elementary schools. They were going today _and_ tomorrow, and some of next week, too."

Rob shook his head, frowning slightly. When had Jamal told him that? Maybe he had forgotten in it his practically half-asleep state. So Alex and Lenni were also somewhere else, and he had missed that also. Had they told also him about it? Who knew. Maybe they did not, though, since unlike Jamal, they usually left school way before the time that he did.

He reached his locker, while Jamal went passed him to one about ten lockers down. Rob quickly spun the dial on the combination lock hanging from the door, and swung the locker open. He shoved his school things into his backpack, reached for his skateboard leaning against the left side. After closing the locker and pushing the lock closed, he met Jamal waiting for him, his bag already on his back.

They walked out the school front doors, passing other kids practically hurtling passed them out of the building. Rob wondered if the kids were actually going that fast, or if he was going slower. If he was, though, Jamal had not complained yet.

Once off the steps, he placed his board onto the ground and stepped onto it. He half listened to Jamal talk about his new sports bike that had been recently fixed, and also how he had almost crashed into a car that had stalled in the middle of a biking trail. It was then that Rob felt yet another random bout of dizziness engulf him.

He teetered heavily on his skateboard, accidently causing it to swerve in to the left and hit a couple of metal trashcans. Rob toppled off, his head hitting the brick wall of a random store nearby.

"Rob!" he heard Jamal shout.

He tried to get up, but the area around him still was moving, and he sank back downward onto the hard cement sidewalk. There was a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Rob, you okay?"

Rob blinked, trying to get the cracks on the sidewalk to stay put. "Uh-"

After a couple more seconds, he was able to slowly raise his head. He sat up, and rubbed a sore spot where his head had made contact with the brick side of the building. The world was not spinning anymore, at least.

He turned to Jamal, who was looking at him concernedly. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said.

His headache was bearable, and nothing else hurt. Rob turned to find his skateboard, and spotted it next to one of the trashcans. Jamal walked beside him.

"Hey, when I had said that I had almost crashed, I didn't mean that you had to _actually_ crash," he kidded.

Rob shrugged, glad that his friend was joking about his fall. "Yeah, yeah," he responded nonchalantly.

He flipped his skateboard the right direction with one foot and stepped on again, steering away from random pedestrians nearby. A while later, Jamal left for his house, one of many white townhouses with a lot of cement steps. A block later, Rob came to his own- a one story brick house that was a bit small, but not so much that his small family that included him, his parents and sometimes his deaf older brother, Jason, would feel extraordinarily crowded.

Only he was home at the moment, which was common for this time of day. He let himself in with his key and practically sleepwalked to his room. Thank goodness he was not supposed make supper today. There was practically no way that he could even think enough to make even the simplest casserole at the moment.

He was pretty lucky that he did not have any homework- all of the larger assignments had been completed a week before, including one for Social Studies that was due in two days, and that was already in the classroom. It was not even one that he had to show a presentation on in front of the class. There were the tests next week, though thankfully they were just that- next week.

Rob slung his backpack over his chair and flopped on the lower part of a bunk bed. The top bunk actually belonged to his brother Jason, who was currently attending a deaf school in Washington D.C.

He sighed. Jason being stuck there instead of with the family was yet another frustration that he would almost wanted to yell at his father for sometimes- but of course, that would not do anything, just like he had never been able to do anything able their family moving to different military bases across the country.

Even though his father had retired after being a colonel for three years and they were actually in a civilian house now, he was not sure if Jason would be ever able to live at home again. His older brother had been at the deaf school for years. Maybe even he would not even _want_ to come back for good, anyway.

Rob shut his eyes tight against as his head began to throb more painfully. At least _he_ was at home, and still would be there whenever Jason happened to visit again.

* * *

Rob tiredly walked through the lunchroom holding his lunch box with one hand, following two of his friends, Jamal and Alex. In the morning he had felt a little less exhausted. That had quickly dissipated as the day droned on, though.

He would have loved to skip lunch, as he was not really hungry, but the computer lab was being used for something else currently. There was some sort of presentation going on in the room, which meant that he could not type instead of sitting in front of a lunch he did not want. At least he would be with his friends, though, as strange as that concept still was.

"So, did you see Dennis Coleman's three pointer in the last basketball game?" Alex chatted excited to Jamal. He carried a lunch tray, laden with two burritos, Mexican rice and an apple.

Jamal nodded. "Yeah, that was really neat," he responded as they reached a small table that would seat four.

"Awesome, you mean," Alex corrected his friend. He set his tray down on the table and sat opposite of Jamal. Rob plunked tiredly down next to Jamal and watched him pull out a ham sandwich out of a brown paper bag.

Jamal then glanced at Rob's lunch box, still unzipped on the table. "Are you going to eat something?" he asked him.

Rob only shrugged. As he knew would happen earlier, eating just did not seem interesting at the moment. He looked up to see Lenni hurrying toward them with another brown bag in her hand. She sat down in the empty seat next to Alex.

"Guess what?" she said, grinning as she pulled out a container and a fork. "My dad taught Sally how to make his pineapple cookies yesterday, and they turned out really great."

Sally was the friendly woman to whom Lenni's father, Max Frazier, was currently dating. She seemed nice, and had helped the Ghostwriter team with the case against finding out about the poison in the community garden nearby where they all lived. Rob had learned from Lenni that Sally could not really cook, though Max was slowly teaching her.

Alex grinned. "So they're actually edible?" he asked jokingly.

Lenni made a small face at the Latino boy as she opened her container to reveal a tuna casserole. She dug her fork into the heap of noodles and vegetable sauce, mixed with flakes of tuna. "Yes, they are," she said, taking a bit of the casserole. "I had two yesterday. So did my dad."

"Hey, they must be pretty good then," Jamal stated.

Lenni nodded. "I brought some with me, actually," she said.

Rob had to grin a bit at Jamal's and Alex's reaction of wide-eyed surprise, especially the former.

"You did?" Jamal asked excitedly.

Lenni nodded. "But technically, cookies _are_ for dessert . . ." She stopped at her attentive audience of two's practically pleading looks. "Okay," she relented, reaching into her bag, and pulled out a clear plastic bag with the lightly browned cookies with yellow centers.

She handed one to Jamal and Alex, who grabbed them eagerly. "Awesome," Jamal said, taking a huge bite.

Alex nodded. "I guess Sally really learned how to make them."

"My dad's a good teacher," Lenni said. She pulled out a third cookie and offered it to Rob. "You want one?" she asked a bit hesitantly.

Rob shook his head. Obviously, from the unsure look on her face, he knew that he must even look really tired. He almost did not really care at the moment, though.

Alex looked his direction. "Hey, if you don't want it, maybe I could have it," he said. He had already finished his, Rob noticed.

Rob saw Jamal kind of frown at him for a tiny bit, then look at the Latino boy. "Maybe we could split it," the dark-skinned boy suggested.

Alex frowned a bit, then shrugged. "Okay, then."

Lenni handed the cookie to Jamal, who broke it in two and handed a part to Alex. "Awesome," Jamal said again after devouring half his part in one bite.

"You say that about all of my dad's desserts," Lenni commented, smiling a little above her half-finished casserole. The bag with the cookies still had one left in it, obviously for her.

Jamal grinned. "It's because they're that good," he responded. "Your dad could be a world famous chef."

"You _know_ he's a musician," Lenni remarked, but she was grinning. "He just likes to cook at home."

She then looked at Rob again, her face worried. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

Rob shrugged. "Eh, I've felt better," he admitted.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him from across the table, his second burrito in one hand. "Hey, just don't give whatever you've got to me," he kidded.

Rob half-listened as his friends chatted about other random things, including something about foul shots in basketball. Finally, the ending bell rang, and they got up from the table. Rob also stood, picking up his unopened lunch box.

As he reached the side of the table, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame him. He sagged, reaching for the table with his left hand. Rob managed to unsteadily grab the side, but the swaying room did not help his loosening grip. The room then seemed to spin even more, and the noise of the many people in the room dimmed as the room faded to blackness.

* * *

Rob opened his eyes to see a spinning white ceiling above him. He winced a bit at a dull headache, but more annoying was the small ceiling light at the right of his vision that kept on moving back and forth. He closed his eyes against the dizziness.

"Are you all right?" an older male voice asked to his right.

Rob opened his eyes again, and through his vertigo saw a male medical assistant that he had seen in the school office before.

"What happened?" he mumbled. He tried not to wince as his head began to throb some.

The person slightly turned around before answering, perhaps to jot something down. "You collapsed in the cafeteria," he answered.

Rob started, surprised. "What?" he asked.

How had that happened? There was no way, yet he did remember some dizziness after he had stood, and ever so slightly of falling . . .

. . . Weird.

He cringed. Not to mention, it was just plain embarrassing. The medical assistant's answer made sense, actually, to explain why he was suddenly somewhere else, but that did not lessen the sheer awkwardness of the situation. Apparently the whole cafeteria- those who had been in there, anyway; he remembered that he and his friends had been about to leave- had seen him go down. He hoped that his friends weren't too worried.

The medical person spoke again. "We've contacted your mother, and she should be here some point soon," he said.

Rob winced a bit at that. Of course someone would come to get him, though.

He then answered some questions about how he felt, and the medical assistant was satisfied that the cause of the collapsing was no more than a bad cold. Rob felt slightly annoyed. Of course it was just a cold. What else would it be, anyway?

. . . Besides just very annoying.

The dizziness would not go away, and neither did the headache. Rob knew that it made sense people actually collapsing would not feel completely fine afterward, especially if it was from sickness. It was embarrassing enough that his mother was coming. He was glad that it was not his father, who was usually a whole lot less empathetic. No doubt his father would find out later, though.

Thankfully, the vertigo began to lessen and was almost gone by the time his mother came, though he still had a dull headache. Rob sat up, with the assistant's help. He then listened to his mother and the medical person spoke for a bit before he moved blearily to get his things from his locker, and into his mother's small blue car.

Through a blur of tiredness, he went to some random doctor, who found nothing wrong than his more than obvious symptoms, to practically falling onto his bed for the second day in a row.

By then, the dizziness had returned nearly three times as strong and he had an utterly throbbing headache, as if earlier was only a small wave before returning with much more force. Rob groaned ever so slightly. Hopefully the medicine he had taken would take effect soon, not only for the headache, but the vertigo that was practically driving him crazy. Even with his eyes shut tight, it was as if the bed itself would not stay still and he would fall off with the rocking motions.

He sighed, trying to keep steady as he turned onto his stomach and clenched the bottom sheet with his hands. Colds were definitely very aggravating, to say the least.

* * *

Rob later woke with his room practically in shadow. Thankfully, the dizziness had abated some, though his head still ached. He lifted his head slightly off of the pillow and glanced toward the curtained window. The only light that came through the sides of the curtains was from a street post near the house.

He craned his head, but could not see his alarm clock from his position on his bed. Rob let his head fall back down onto the pillow and sighed, shutting his eyes. A few minutes later, he heard a soft knocking on the door.

"Come in," he mumbled, feeling that it definitely would not have been the first time that his mother had come in his room to check on him. Maybe even his father came in at some point, but that almost seemed kind of strange.

He opened his eyes again as he heard the door open. Some light from the hallway spilled into the room, and he saw the figure of his mother come toward his bed. He was glad that his mother kept the light off, though.

"Rob, how are you feeling?" she asked once she reached his bed.

Rob shrugged as best as he could while lying down, and tried hard not to wince at the slight reminder of his fainting earlier. It was still just plain embarrassing.

"I'm glad that you're actually awake to see me this time," his mother added, smiling some. "You were completely out all afternoon. So do you feel any better?" she added, looking him concernedly.

"Yeah," he mumbled, feeling a bit cross. Obviously she could see that he was not completely better. He huffed as he held back a sharp retort.

"Are you hungry at all?" his mother asked. "I could make some rice, or toast. Or maybe I could make something later, if you don't feel up to it now?"

Rob sighed inwardly at the mention of him still being unwell. He could feel some frustration rising in him. He really did not want his mother in here currently. He _knew_ was fine already, besides obviously being sick. It was _his_ room, and his mother did not need to barge in here at any time whenever she felt like it!

"No, and I'm _fine_ ," he stated sharply.

His head throbbed some more, and he shut his eyes tight. He felt his mother put a gentle hand on his right shoulder. Rob felt his frustration abate some, then practically evaporate, leaving him a bit confused at his sudden sharpness.

He wondered why he had gotten so angrily so quickly like that. It did not particularly make sense, but maybe it was something else that went along with the cold, for whatever weird reason. Sure, he was rather annoyed at him still being sick, but not with anyone, and definitely not angry. Rob opened his eyes to see his mother thankfully not looked irritated at his outburst.

Instead, she nodded understandingly. "All right, then," she answered calmly. His mother then straightened, taking he hand off of him. "Some of your friends came by earlier with your homework," she added. "They did not actually come in, since you were still asleep. I put it on your desk."

Rob nodded, then wished he hadn't as his headache pulsed a bit more strongly for a bit. It was kind of interesting that they had come over in the first place. He was not quite used to that sort of thing. All of their group meetings had always taken place at someone else's house. What a reason for coming to his home for the first time, though.

"I'll come back to check on you a little bit later," his mother said. "I'll actually be taking off work tomorrow, so you won't have to stay here by yourself."

"Fine," he answered dully, half to his pillow.

His mother nodded. She left the room, quietly closing the door, leaving the room shrouded in shadows again.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Hopefully he would be better by the next day.

* * *

Rob whizzed on his skateboard around a corner in his neighborhood, on his way to school. Finally, his mother had allowed him to leave the house, though he knew that he had been still a little dizzy the day before. He was fine now, though. Despite one tiny random dizzy spell when opening his closet earlier, he felt completely back to usual.

He felt absolutely no tiredness whatever, and was completely caught up with his homework. Three days of being cooped up in his house due to sickness was way more than enough. Plus, he would actually be able to see the teacher's lectures instead of just having his friend's notes, as helpful as they had been. He would be able to take his own notes in class now.

Rob reached a familiar row of white townhouses, and grinned a bit as he saw the front door open of the one that Jamal lived in. Pushing harder with his left foot, he zoomed closer to his friend.

Jamal turned at what had to be the sound of the skateboard and grinned. "Hey, you're back to feeling better, huh?"

Rob nodded as they went down the sidewalk together. "Yeah, being sick is no fun," he answered back.

Jamal nodded. "Yeah, I know that one," he said. He then laughed, shaking his head. "There was one time that I was in class in third grade, and actually threw up on my desk."

Rob made a face. "Gross," he said, though he could not help but laugh some.

"Yeah, no kidding," Jamal responded. "That was embarrassing enough for me to stay away from the classroom for one day, but then I went back. It's kind of hard to stay away when the teacher makes you go to class."

Rob looked at his friend as they stopped at a corner where a brown station wagon was passing in front of them. "Wait, are you saying that you had actually skipped class?" he asked, surprised.

Jamal shrugged. "Yeah, but that was just that one time," he responded. "I hid in the janitor's closet. After a while, something fell on me and seemed to move. I thought that in there with this huge rat. I finally got it off me, and threw things at it, and when someone opened the door, I hid behind some buckets. The person didn't see me, but I saw what I had been fighting, which was a part of a string mop that was half molded together."

"Seriously?" Rob asked, laughing some as they began to cross the street.

Jamal chuckled. "Yeah, I guess mops can be pretty dangerous."

Rob shook his head in amusement. "I guess so. They actually let something get so moldy like that?" he asked.

"Well, most things in school closets aren't- that I've seen, anyway- but I guess they just forgot about that one," Jamal replied, shrugging good-naturedly. "Either that, or there are always random things that people just forget about in closets like that."

"Well, I sure don't want to go into any janitor's closets any time soon," Rob stated.

His friend laughed again. "Yeah, I still always try to watch out in any closet at school now."

"That sounds like a good idea."

A car horn honked for several seconds nearby. Rob quickly turned to the direction of the sound, but saw nothing unusual.

He was about to turn back around, when suddenly, a strange jolt of fear coursed through him. Rob stopped, staring in horror at a large van waiting at the crosswalk. For some odd reason, he was sure that it would bolt and run over him . . .

The feeling quickly passed, leaving Rob blinking in confusion as he stared at the very un-peculiar scene of a brown van stopped at the red light nearby. Inside it was just a middle school kid reading a book, with the driver leaning on one hand, looking rather bored.

He then quickly turned around and started back to Jamal, who had apparently not noticed him lagging behind. Rob tried to shove down his anxiety as he pushed his foot against the ground for more speed. It was probably nothing to worry about, anyway.

* * *

Rob passed a throng of students moving different directions for classes, with Jamal beside him. Both had just come from a music theory class that both of them had been somehow placed in.

"I wonder if I'll actually get those notes and stuff," Jamal wondered as they turned around a corner. "I mean, I get that the staffs- or, what did they teacher call them again?"

"Staves," Rob answered. He had been a bit surprised at the plural of the word, also, but he supposed that it really did not matter that much, as long as he got it correct.

Jamal nodded. "Yeah, those," he said. "I get that the staffs- staves- have the notes on them, but I can never seem to get the clefs right. Even in whichever grade I played the recorder, or whatever it was, I really didn't get it, and that was just one staff. Then again, I don't plan on playing a musical instrument, either. I guess I'll just have to study harder for this class." He grinned. "I like math a whole lot better, really."

Rob shrugged. "Yeah, I don't plan on playing an instrument either."

"I notice that you seem get music theory stuff, though," Jamal said. "Maybe you could help me with it."

"I think Lenni would be better at that," Rob said a bit awkwardly.

Jamal thought for a second, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

Rob knew Lenni had much more of a musical background. She also played piano, or at least the keyboard he had seen in her loft, and therefore probably already knew about both clefs as well as many more things that had not even been mentioned in the class yet.

He was doing at least somewhat well in the music class, though Lenni would probably truly understand it much better. Unlike Jamal, the notes made sense to him and he could recognize them easily. It was almost kind of pointless, though, since he did not know what the sounds were once they were on a staff. He kind of wished that the teacher played a note for the ones on the staves. Maybe she thought that the class was beyond that already, since apparently at least most of the class would have played at least the recorder, though.

"So what do recorders look like, anyway?" Rob asked his friend, attempting to change the subject.

Jamal looked at him, surprised. "You never played one?" he asked.

"No."

Jamal shrugged. "Well, recorders are these instrument things that are long and thin with lots of holes, and you blow into it to play it. I guess it's kind of like a flute, except that it was plastic and you play it straight up and down, instead of sideways."

"It must be a wind instrument, then." Rob could slightly picture it, though he wondered if all recorders were actually plastic, or if it was that since the class had learned to play them.

"I guess," Jamal responded. "Was it an air force thing that you didn't have to learn to play it?"

Rob shrugged as they went up some stairs to eventually get to Social Studies. "I don't think so," he replied. "Maybe all schools don't have that class, or I just somehow missed it since I moved around so much."

Jamal grinned a bit. "Hey, I wouldn't have minded skipping that class," he said. He laughed. "I mean, it was cool that I got an instrument, but I couldn't really play it. The only thing that I used the recorder for- when I wasn't actually practicing, anyway- was to scare my older sister Danitra by blasting the thing when she wasn't expecting it."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure she didn't like that."

His friend laughed again. "No kidding," he said. "She could yell pretty loud, though I had to watch out if she threw something at me."

"Sounds painful."

Jamal grimaced. "Yeah, she throws hard," he replied. "I had to learn to duck if she hurled pencils at me. Wow, throw them at the right angle, and they can really hurt. Especially if they're really sharp."

Rob was about to respond, when startlingly, a sudden bout of vertigo came over him. Unbalanced, he toppled onto his knees, dropping his school things onto the floor.

"Hey, what-?" he heard Jamal say, surprised. "Rob, you okay?"

Rob rubbed his suddenly aching head with one hand, with the other palm down on the spinning cold tile flooring. For whatever reason, he was also suddenly exhausted.

"Hey, Rob," Jamal said worriedly.

Rob gazed at the whirling tiles, wishing that he could say that he was fine already, but the floor did not stop moving. Why did some oddball dizziness have to come _now_? Surely he was better from the cold he had had- though he remembered the slight bout from earlier in the morning in his house. For whatever reason, it worse now than it had been earlier. He was _supposed_ to be better, though. Rob closed his eyes shut tight, hoping that would help with the vertigo.

"What's going on?"

He heard what that sounded like a male teacher before some quick footsteps came nearby, and cringed. He really did not also need some random teacher worrying about him.

"I don't know," Rob heard Jamal respond worriedly. "He was fine, and then suddenly he was like this."

His headache was thankfully rapidly dimming, and he lowered his hand to his lap. Rob opened his eyes. Thankfully, the tiles were not spinning as much. After blinking hard a few times to attempt to settle the rest of the vertigo, he raised his head and saw Jamal's concerned face, as well as an unfamiliar teacher. Maybe it was even one from eighth grade.

"I'm fine," he said, hoping that it was true.

"Are you sure?" the teacher asked, concern etched on his face.

Rob nodded. The dizziness had fully subsided now, as well as his headache. His queer exhaustion was also gone.

"Yeah," he replied. Hopefully he was completely fine. He definitely did not need more awkward incidents to occur, like in the lunch room.

Rob started to gather his school things that had fallen to the floor as the teacher stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the teacher still standing there, hovering over him as if he was concerned something else might happen. He grabbed his last notebook, some embarrassment coursing through him, and stacked it onto the small pile.

"Hey, here's this," he heard Jamal say.

Rob looked up and saw the dark-skinned boy holding out his pencil pouch. Feeling slightly irritated, Rob grabbed the blue case and stashed it on top of his Social Studies notebook.

"I could've gotten it myself," he said, frowning a little bit at his friend.

Jamal raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I was just trying to help," he responded.

Rob huffed slightly and stood up, holding his school things. "I know."

"Are you sure you're all right?" he heard the teacher ask from behind him.

Rob turned around. "Yeah," he quickly said. Beside him, Jamal had also stood, holding his own school things again.

He also noticed, with much more than a slight bit of awkwardness, that a small crowd of students had gathered around them. Some of them were staring at Rob with a mixture of curiosity and distaste, including a few that were actually in his Social Studies class, like Jamal. Perhaps there were even some there that had watched him collapse in the cafeteria several days ago. Maybe they even thought that he was contagious.

He avoided their staring eyes and quickly walked away, Jamal beside him. Behind them, he heard the teacher attempting to convince the students to go to their classes.

"So you're really okay, then?" Jamal asked as they neared the Social Studies classroom.

Rob inwardly groaned. "I'm _fine_ ," he practically spat. If one more person asked him that question . . .

He and Jamal went into the classroom with no more incidents, and he averted his attention to the teacher after the bell rang. Surely nothing else would happen, anyway.


	2. And Jason Also Visits

Rob blearily opened his eyes as he heard his alarm clock ringing. The repetitive sound was just plainly _annoying_ . . . He kind of wished that he had a buzz one that shook the mattress, like his brother Jason. He slowly got up out of bed-

And nearly fell on the floor.

Rob groaned ever so slightly, hanging onto the wooden part of the top bunk, trying to battle some vertigo overtop of sheer exhaustion. Why was it back _again_?

Who knew. However, alarms did not turn off themselves, as least not the type that he had, for a very long while. Holding on to the bed for as long as he could, he made his way shakily over to his desk where his alarm clock rested. He fumbled with the switch on the side before the annoyed beeping stopped.

Rob looked around the slightly spinning room. Hopefully the vertigo would clear up soon. There was no way that he could even walk to school with the way he felt currently.

His desk chair was closer to him than his bed. Perhaps he could wait there for a few minutes or however long it would take for the dizziness to subside.

For a brief moment, he wished that his mother was home. His mother had taken up an art gallery job soon after his family had moved to Brooklyn, though; he knew that it was yet another thing that was due to (well, Rob had sometimes hoped instead) that where they were staying would be permanent. He was not living in yet another military base, and therefore, they would not have to move yet _again_ within less than a year, when Rob's father was transferred.

Rob shook his head, trying to quell the thoughts of wishing for his mother currently. He was definitely not in elementary school, and his mother liked having a job. He should be able to take care of himself.

Rob slowly pulled out his desk chair while heavily leaning on the edge of his desk with his other hand. He managed to pull the chair out a sufficient amount for him to sit on it; he plopped right down, and let his head rest on his arms. Rob then raised his head, a bit confused. Why was his right wrist, where he had been laying his head slightly wet?

He felt a hand on his forehead, and was surprised to feel moisture there. For some odd reason, he was sweating. He put his hand on his forehead again, still slightly dizzy. Did he have a fever? It was not a cheering thought. He was supposed to be better, not still sick. Maybe he had caught something else?

Rob sighed. He definitely did not want his mother to have to stay home from her work again just to be with him, or worse, for her to call someone else.

Perhaps if he rested just a little bit, he could go to school after the vertigo abated enough. Sighing, Rob rested his sweaty head on his arms again . . .

The doorbell was ringing. Rob wearily lifted his head. Thankfully, his dizziness had disappeared, though he felt quite exhausted. He wondered if he could even make it to the doorbell if he even wanted to. Then again, he did not particularly want to do that currently since he still happened to be in his pajamas.

Whoever was ringing the doorbell would not stop. Actually, they were pressing it twice as fast, now. Rob rolled his eyes slightly. Maybe it was some random younger kid in the neighborhood that was pulling some prank, though the double-time ringing rather ruined the surprise.

Rob tried to ignore the bell and looked at his alarm clock. Four-fifteen.

He blanched. How could he have slept for so long, and at his desk, even?

Rob groaned a bit. Yet another day that he had missed school. Hopefully the homework was not too hard. The ringing doorbell stopped, only to be replaced with someone tapping at the window. Actually, it was multiple people tapping- no actually, they were zombies as they came through the walls, reaching for him with long, curled black fingers, trying to touch him with their ice-cold touch to bring them to their practically deadened world of gnarled roots, thick mists, and endless thorns and fear . . .

Rob gasped as he sat upright. He was still at his desk, and weirdly, like his dream, he was still exhausted. He looked at his room. At least there were no zombies around him.

He rubbed his aching head- great, another headache- and looked around the room. Since he did not feel any vertigo, maybe he could even go to school now. Hopefully he would not be too late.

Rob looked at his alarm clock, and his heart instantly sank as he saw the time. Three-thirty two.

He sighed, sinking back down onto the desk chair.

Just _great_. He had _actually_ missed school again. At least there were no tests today, though.

After visiting the bathroom quickly, he sank down onto his bed, which was definitely better than a desk chair. Maybe tomorrow he would not be so exhausted.

He then heard a familiar sound of a slowly moving vehicle outside. Without looking out his window, he knew that it was the mail truck.

Rob suddenly remembered that his mother had mentioned to him that he should get the mail when after coming home from school. His father was expecting some important mail, and had specifically stated that he did not want it left in the mailbox until he got home, which would be much later today.

Feeling rather sullen toward mailboxes that were all the way outside by the curb instead of by helpfully near the front door, he slowly got dressed and trudged outside. Once back in the house, he plopped the mail on the kitchen counter.

Rob sighed and walked back toward his room. Before he had reached the open doorway, he had to steady himself against the wall against a short dizzy spell. He managed to flop on his bed again, planning on not moving for at least another hour.

A few seconds later- or maybe it was minutes, or even hours- he fuzzily opened his eyes in time to see some letters flew one at a time in front of him to spell out a message, formed from various books and other things in his room.

_RALLY J_

Rob groaned. Of _course_ the team would call a meeting when he was sick. Even if they be they knew that since he had not been at school today, he supposed that he could still write a quick note stating that he could not come, though, just in case.

He slowly got up from his bed, and started to make his way to his desk-

* * *

Voices.

There were voices around him. His parents, maybe?

Rob realized that his eyes were closed. Maybe his parents were home, and had found him asleep on his bed, though that did not quite seem right. He _had_ been on his bed, though he had gotten up from it, and had been doing something else. But what?

He considered going back to sleep, but for some reason, things were not quite right.

For some reason, his bed was moving. He could feel it underneath him, rocking ever so slightly like someone was carrying it. Actually, it was not rocking anymore, but was buzzing a little bit, with slight vibrations underneath him, like someone had put the bed on a cart.

. . . What? Maybe he was just dizzy again, though. No way someone could put the bunk bed on a cart. It would be way too large for that. Actually, the beds would have to be dismantled before even being able to get them outside of the bedroom.

Rob managed to open his eyes to see a spinning blue and white sky above him. He was blinking in confusion- ceilings did not usually change into skies- when he heard a familiar voice call out.

"Rob!"

He blinked again as he heard Gaby, sounding concerned. What was she doing near his house? Then again, what was he doing outside in the first place?

Another voice spoke up, this time of an unfamiliar grown-up. "Just be calm, little girl. We've got him."

Rob tried to look at the speaker, but they were not in his range of vision. He could see his front yard, though, and nearly out of the corner of his vision, he could see Gaby, as well as a shaken-looking Alex and someone else's blue jacket.

What was going on? The bed he was only kept on buzzing underneath him, and he could see the driveway.

The bed was then lifted again. Rob could barely keep his eyes open, and the vertigo was extremely disorienting. He wanted to know what in the world had happened, though.

The sky turned into a white ceiling, and the bed was now resting on a floor of some type, in a small room with white walls, medical instruments, and someone in a uniform telling him to rest . . .

As yet someone else checked his pulse ("A little rapid. Less than it was in the house. Currently faster right now probably due to fever and stress") he realized that he was in an ambulance.

The vehicle was moving. Somehow, he had collapsed again. He tried to not groan, even though he was rather confused and more than a bit frightened.

Why was he so sick _again_ , and this time enough to actually need an ambulance? He now knew that he had to have fainted (again . . .) sometime right after he had seen Jamal's rally message. Maybe Ghostwriter could tell when one of the team became unconscious somehow, and had alerted the team? Perhaps he could tell that it was different than people going to sleep.

The small room in the ambulance was still spinning. He closed his eyes, wondering what his parents were going to say . . .

Rob opened his eyes to see his mother worriedly looking at him. From her lowered position nearby him, he could tell that she was sitting down.

"Rob, are you all right?" she asked.

Rob sighed, but nodded. He still (still? How annoying) felt tired, but at least the room, probably some hospital room somewhere, was not spinning at all.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

His mother still did not look fully appeased, though that made sense. Rob just wished that he was _out_ of the hospital.

"Were you feeling sick again this morning?" she asked. "I was told that you weren't at school today."

Rob nodded tiredly. "Yeah," he responded again.

He saw his mother's concerned look deepen as she asked another question. "When did you collapse?" she asked softly. "Do you remember?"

Rob tried not to frown as he suddenly noticed some doctor nearby writing on a clipboard. Trying to ignore his annoyance, he replied. "Well, I saw my alarm clock after waking up again later. It was after three."

At the moment, he could not remember what time it had been exactly, but frustratingly enough, recalled with clarity the stupid dream that he had had before then. He sighed, a bit irritated as he tried to shove the dream out of his mind.

"I saw Alex and Gaby outside the house," he said. "After the ambulance came."

His mother actually smiled some. "It was all five of your friends, actually, and it was a good thing they did come," she said. "They said that came with your homework. No one answered the doorbell, so they went in the house." She then frowned. "Apparently the front door was somehow unlocked."

Rob nodded again. "Yeah, I got the mail earlier," he explained.

His mother's face looked a bit relieved as she smiled a bit. "At least it was not your father or I, or even someone else that had left it unlocked, then." She then became more concerned again. "Your friends had found you unconscious in your room. I wasn't told the exact time, but right now it is" –she checked her watch- "five thirty."

The male doctor spoke up, looking up from his clipboard. "The 911 call was made at four-twenty pm today at your address," he stated.

Rob saw his mother look at the doctor. "Thank you. Yes, I was told that one of his friends had called."

Another doctor came in, and did some routine hospital and doctor things, like checking his pulse (normal speed) and temperature (102°, lower than 104°, as it had been earlier).

Rob sighed some as his mother and the doctor talked some. At least he was not to stay in the hospital, but yet again, he would have to stay home from school. How annoying. Why was his stupid cold lasting so long? At least the doctor (and other doctors, with more tests) had said that he did not have bronchitis, or anything more serious. Maybe he should never even attempt to get the mail during a cold anymore, to avoid an unplanned hospital visit? How weird.

A few hours later, he was flat on his stomach on his bed again as the room spun around him with yet another utterly throbbing headache. He had seen his father earlier, who had merely ordered him to rest after making sure that he had taken his medicine.

Rob groaned as he shut his eyes tight. He sure hoped that he would _actually_ be better soon.

* * *

Rob frowned at a particular difficult Science question. After checking at the textbook again, he once more leafed through the copy of Jamal's handwritten notes, and found something that looked like it would help. His friends were quite helpful in lending their school notes, though he had noticed that Jamal's tended to be the best. Finally, he finished the answer.

A few more questions later, he was done with the subject and with his homework- for today, anyway. Then there was be the next day, and the next day . . . until whenever he would be allowed to go back to school. At some point.

Rob heard the doorbell ring again, as it had earlier with Jamal and Lenni with his homework. They had not stayed, since of course they had had their own homework to finish, though.

He had just put away his books and other things in his back in his backpack when his mother knocked on the door of his bedroom.

"Come in," Rob called.

The door opened, and his mother walked in through the doorway. She smiled briefly before talking.

"Your friends are at the door," she said.

Rob started a bit. "They are?" he asked. He had already gotten his homework. Why did they want to visit again?

Then again, maybe it was kind of like him wanting to visit Gaby when she had become sick from the poison in the community garden- except that was a whole lot different. For one thing, a whole bunch of people had been getting sick there. This time, it was just him.

"Are you feeling up to them visiting?" his mother asked.

Rob blinked a bit. His friends had never come into his house . . . Oh right, at least one of them had, when he had been found unconscious (it was still a creepy thought) three days ago.

"Uh, sure," he said.

His mother nodded, and bent down some to put a hand to his forehead before he could pull away.

"I'm _fine_ ," he said, irritably jerking from her just after she pulled her hand away. He quickly latched the buckle on the front flap of his backpack and slung it over the back of his chair.

Rob saw his mother nod again. "I know you're better, but not completely," she said. "At least you still don't have a fever, the same as earlier today." She then smiled some. "You friends can visit, but I would prefer you did not go outside, all right? And don't overexert yourself."

Rob nodded, feeling a little sullen due to being sick in the first place. His mother smiled and left the room, leaving the door open.

He quickly looked around his room, but nothing needed to be picked up. Rob stood and walked to his bed- he supposed that one of his friends could use the desk chair- and waited anxiously. He heard footsteps in the house from multiple people, as well as his friends voices, including Lenni thanking his mother for letting them come in.

"Yo, Rob," he heard Jamal say.

Rob looked up to see Jamal, Gaby and Lenni looking at him. He could spot Alex and Tina behind them.

"Can we come in?" Lenni asked friendlily.

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

All of his friends came into his room, and Lenni closed the door closed the door behind them. Gaby was looking at the various things on the walls, while Tina was looking at the books on the shelves near his bed.

"That's a lot of books," she said.

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I like to read," he said.

Jamal came up to him and grinned, putting him more at ease. "Well, the first thing that I want to say is that I'm _definitely_ glad that you're feeling better."

"Yeah," Lenni agreed, nodding wholeheartedly.

Tina nodded. "That was pretty scary," she stated, wincing a bit.

Rob blanched. Though the whole incident to him was still pretty hazy, and he wished it had not occurred in the first place.

"So do you actually remember fainting at all?" Gaby asked, looking interested.

Her brother instantly turned on her. " _Gaby!_ " he stated furiously, frowning intensely. "You don't need to ask _that!_ "

Rob shrugged. "It's fine," he said, attempting to still sound casual. "I don't really remember most of what happened, I think," he said.

Gaby put a hand on one leg of the top bunk. "So Ghostwriter said that you had gotten Jamal's rally message."

Rob nodded. "Yeah, I saw it."

Alex then recounted what happened next. "You wouldn't believe it," he said. "Ghostwriter sent the rally message, and then came back quick telling me and Jamal- I was with him near the bodega- and that something was wrong with you."

Jamal nodded darkly. "He said that you were unconscious, and to come quick," he relayed. "And once we got there, you were on the floor of your room, with a fever and your pulse going crazy."

"Definitely not good," Alex added.

Rob flinched a bit, then spoke. "So it was because of Ghostwriter that you guys were at my house then," he stated quietly. He had been correct in his suspicions after all.

Alex nodded. "Yeah. I didn't even know that he could do that."

Lenni then nodded from where she standing near Jamal. "It was a good thing," she said.

Tina spoke up again. "But why was the front door unlocked?" she asked, her face concerned.

Rob answered. "Oh, I had gotten the mail," he said. It had been a good thing that he had heard the mail truck. That way, his friends did not have to break a window pane to unlock a door somewhere.

Alex actually grinned. "Oh, so you didn't fall from you skateboard trying to get to school, then, before going back inside."

Rob huffed in frustration at the Latino boy. "No, I didn't," he answered curtly. He then turned to the rest of the team. "Anyway, thanks for coming and helping," he said a bit awkwardly, yet grateful at the same time.

His friends all grinned in varying degrees. "Thank Ghostwriter," Gaby suggested. "He was the reason why we came."

He shrugged. "I guess I should," he said.

Rob had stood, ready to retrieve some paper from a desk drawer, when a bit of vertigo suddenly hit him and he started to sway. Instantly, multiple pairs of willing hands stopped him from falling to the floor. Jamal and Alex helped him sit back down on the bed.

"Are you okay?" Lenni asked, her eyes slightly wide in fright.

Rob nodded, trying to blink away the dizziness. "Yeah," he said. Thankfully the vertigo vanished after a few seconds.

"I guess it's safe to say that you're not completely better yet," Jamal stated, raising an eyebrow.

Rob shrugged. "Yeah, well."

"We could get some paper for you," Tina suggested.

"I guess," he consented, suppressing a sigh.

Apparently his friend did not know that he had had many random dizzy spells after coming back home from the hospital. Even though some had lasted a lot longer, he had always been fine afterward at some point. At least he had not actually fainted again since then, though.

"So where is the paper?" Gaby asked, looking around the room.

"In the bottom desk drawer," Rob answered, pointing. He kind of wished that he had stayed at the desk now. He could have gotten the paper just fine, without all of the extra fuss.

The Latino girl nodded and ran and retrieved a sheet, coming back to him. Rob nodded his thanks and grabbed a random book to write on from a shelf behind him. He briefly saw the cover of _The Forgotten Door_ before covering it with the paper and uncapping his pen from the cord around his neck.

Rob wrote a brief note of thanks to Ghostwriter. He then watched as letters flew upward from both the note and the book underneath it to form a simple message.

_Friends will always help_

He saw Jamal was grinning as he nodded. "He has that right," the dark-skinned boy stated firmly. The rest of the team also nodded in agreement.  
Rob smiled some. Even though he was still not completely used to having a group of steady friends, he was glad that he could count on them- including Ghostwriter.

The message soon faded. Rob spotted Gaby looking curiously at the beds. "So why do you have a bunk bed?" she asked.

Alex suddenly stared at the beds also, as if just realizing that they were there. "Oh yeah," he said. "I remember that I saw them when I was in your room. Before the ambulance came."

Rob winced a tiny bit at the reminder yet again, but shrugged. "It's for my brother Jason," he informed them. He was not really sure if he was quite ready to tell his friends about his older brother, though it was unfortunately a "bit" too late for that.

Jamal looked interested. "Does he go to college, like Danitra?" he asked, naming his older sister that Rob had seen a couple of times.

Rob shook his head. "No, Jason's deaf," he explained. "He goes to a special school in Washington D.C."

He saw his friends' eyes widen at the mention of his brother's disability. What did they think about it?

"So does he use sign language?" Tina asked.

Rob nodded. "Yeah, he does," he responded. "He also reads lips."

Even as he said that- though he was proud of Jason for mastering the difficult skill, it might lead to another one that was much harder, and which his brother could not do . . . Perhaps his friends would not think to ask about it, anyway. A whole lot of hearing people did not really associate- or think it possible- that deaf people could learn to talk. (That was, of course, if they did not know about Helen Keller.)

"Is lip reading hard?" Gaby asked.

"Yeah, it is. Not every deaf person can do it as well as he can."

Alex grinned. "That sounds pretty neat."

Rob smiled some at the compliment. "Yeah."

Lenni was looking concerned. "So do you ever get to see him?" she asked.

Rob winced a bit as Lenni's question hit spot on many past arguments with his father, all of which had ended in Jason staying away from home.

Jason was deaf, and therefore would receive a better education from people better equipped for handling hearing impaired students. It took too much time and effort to find yet another service or tutor for Jason each time they moved to a different military base. Jason would benefit much more from an environment of deaf people surrounding him, instead of only a hearing brother and mother (and his father when he was not deployed), as well the rest of the hearing military community, most of which did not know sign language . . .

He huffed inwardly, trying to hide his years' worth of frustration from his friends. He had no idea if Jason himself even wanted to live at home again, even though their father was retired now. After all, unlike Rob, Jason had stayed in one place for years, and even had made friends there. He had also learned more skills, such as lip-reading, that he had never even been began to be taught while in various military bases around the country.

. . . And plus, it would still remain the same if he stayed where he was- part of a culture where he was not considered weird due to being deaf. Was it simply stupid for Rob to want Jason back at home with him again, someone that was only a hearing brother, even if he knew sign language? Even though he did know it well, he did not sign as fluently, as fast, as proficiently as a _native_ would . . .

Meanwhile, oblivious to Rob's internal arguments with himself, Gaby was frowning at the taller brown-haired girl. "If Rob didn't ever see him, he wouldn't have a bunk bed in his room in the first place," she pointed out.

Rob nodded. "Yeah, I see him sometimes, like for vacations, and also during the summer," he stated, trying to sound nonchalant enough.

However, Lenni was not looking convinced. "You miss him, right?" she asked.

Rob sighed. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

"That must be pretty rough," Jamal said. He was looking rather concerned.

"But he always comes back, though," Rob said.

Tina nodded. "That's a good thing," the Vietnamese girl stated, smiling some.

"When's he coming back next?" Lenni asked.

"In about two months," he responded. "His school has three days of conferences then."

Rob then inwardly scowled. Jason was coming home again in "just" two month. Like always, any amount of time that Jason was away from home seemed like forever. His older brother had, many times, been away more than the time that their father had spent away from the air force bases on his frequent deployments. Even the shortest time with those was four months.  
He was beginning to feel the familiar fury again at his father for sending his only brother- his first actual friend- away, when Gaby spoke up.

"Could I see a picture of him?" the Latino girl asked.

Rob blinked, his rage subsiding. He had not been anticipating that question, though he shrugged. "Sure, I guess," he replied. He stood, even as Lenni gasped little bit.

"I'm _fine_ ," he told her sternly.

He winced a bit as the brunette girl frowned a bit, looking a bit put out, but tried to ignore it as he went to his closet and pulled out a small box.

Rob opened it and pulled out a small photo album. This one held some of the various pictures that Jason had sent him through the mail in the years after he had been sent away. They had all been copied and put in the family photo albums, but he liked to have some pictures of his older brother just for himself, though.

He went back to the bed, and opened the album to the last page. Jason was grinning with one of his friends, as well as two elementary age boys. The rest of the team crowded around him, eyeing the pictures curiously.

"That's him right there," he said, pointing to the older dark-haired boy the far left.

Lenni was smiling some. "Hey, he looks a lot like you," she stated.

Rob shrugged. He got that a lot when Jason was around. And then of course, some nastier people would then raise their eyebrows and stride on past them- or make stupid comments- when they found out that Jason was deaf . . .

"Who's he with?" Tina asked.

Rob explained. "That's one of his friends from his school. They're both in a program where they were helping newer younger students adjust to being away from home. That's his student," –he pointed to an eight-year-old Japanese-American boy- "and the other one is the kid that his friend is helping with."

"That sounds pretty neat," Jamal commented.

Rob nodded. "Yeah, Jason said in a letter that he likes doing it."

He grinned inwardly, as he also remembered what else Jason said to him in some of his most recent letters. The boy he was helping, though fine in the picture, had a definite knack for getting into trouble without even trying. Jason had even had once had to crawl through a small basement doorway that had not been used in years to find the smaller kid, who had somehow gotten himself stuck there after (seriously) falling through a one-way trap door . . . And that was just one of many weird incidents.

It seemed a bit too weird to tell a bunch about his older brother, though, including those type of exploits. He soon put away the album in the closet again. Thankfully, Gaby then changed the subject to something funny that had happened in her family's store.

After chatting a while longer, even Alex could tell that he was getting pretty tired after yet another failed attempt to hide a yawn.

His friends soon left after that. Rob smiled a bit. He was quite glad that his friends accepted Jason, unlike many people that he had met. It was just another good thing about finally having a permanent home in the first place.


	3. Messages

Rob put an answer in his Math notebook, and sighed in relief as he closed it and laid the pencil he had been using on his desk. That was the last problem, and actually, the last thing for his homework. Finally, he was caught up- but again, only for today.

He opened his school backpack shoved the notebook in it, as well as his other notebooks and binders. Even though he was feeling much better, both of his parents had said that he should not go to school for at least a few more days.

Rob sighed. Doing homework was usually much easier when he had been in class with the teacher to help explain some things. That was especially true of the music theory course, which unfortunately, neither Jamal or Alex understood as well as other subjects. It was really too bad that Lenni was not in that class. Out of the several non-fiction books that he owned, none of them had anything that was specifically about music.

At least he had not been dizzy today at all today. His parents even trusted him to be alone in the house for at least a few hours. Currently, his father was still at work, and his mother was grocery shopping. The latter had made sure that her son knew that there was plenty of water and juice in the fridge, as well as several leftovers. She did not even want him cooking currently, which seemed to him to be a bit overboard. Fortunately, he would be allowed to cook after he started going to school again.

Rob pulled out an empty sheet of paper from his bottom top desk drawer. With random wording for poems running through his mind, he picked up his pencil-

* * *

He was looking at a wall near the door of his bedroom.

Rob stared in confusion. Why was he over here instead of at his desk, as he had been?

He realized that both of his hands hurt. Rob lifted up his right hand, finding with some surprise that he had to uncurl his hand- and actually his left hand, also- from a fist. For whatever reason, his arm ached from the upward movement, but was much more surprised to see that his knuckles were bruised but good. A quick check of his smarting left hand showed the same.

Rob stared in confusion. What had happened?

Through his befuddled haze, he supposed that it was a good thing that at least neither hand was bleeding at all.

Rob shook his head, trying to clear it. He then turned toward his desk, and gasped.

The desk was shoved to the right side a little bit, with everything previously on it seemingly dumped precariously on the floor, and his chair completely turned over. In a daze, he went over to the chair. He righted it, and went to move the desk. After shoving into its regular position, he saw a small, half-way crumpled piece of paper on the floor nearby.

He frowned. Unlike some of his friends, he did not crumple a piece of paper, even when frustrated with something, unless he was throwing it in the trash. The paper had completely missed the trashcan, though, and as he opened it, he saw that it was blank. Perhaps it was probably the one that he had been about to write a poem on . . .

It was as if someone had come into his room and been really mad about something . . . but no one had, right? Rob quickly crumpled up the spoiled paper and tossed it hurriedly in the small trash can near his desk, and quickly checked outside his window. The driveway was still empty, so neither of his parents had come home yet.

He replaced everything on his desk, including his alarm clock, which showed that it was about an hour before his mother had stated was the earliest time that she would be back home. Still feeling rather unnerved, he checked the rest of the house. Nothing else had been touched.

Rob came back into his room, feeling rather disconcerted. Clearly, with his memory missing of whatever had happened and the bruises on his hands, _he_ had been the one that had caused the mess in his room. He wondered how he had gotten his hands injured in the first place. Had he been punching walls, or something like that?

Rob shakily sat down on his bed- it was a "bit" harder to toss, or whatever had happened- and set his head down on his smarting hands.

So what _had_ happened? Was it some weird hallucination due to him still being somewhat sick?

He knew that sometimes people remembered hallucinating; other times, they did not. Apparently, this was one of those times for the latter. Since when did colds cause people to hallucinate, and throw things or punch walls until their knuckles were visibly injured, at that? Then again, when did mere colds cause people to collapse more than once in the first place?

He looked up at his room, trying hard not to panic. At least he had not been tossing books or messed the rest of the house. Did people that were hallucinating even know how to open doors? He sure hoped not.

Rob quickly decided that he should not tell his parents- maybe they would not even believe anyway, even with his hands bruised. Hopefully they would not ask too many questions about the injuries. He lay down on his bed, even though he was not really that tired, purposely facing away from the many books on the shelves nearby. He sure hoped that nothing like this would happen again.

* * *

Rob woke as he heard a car down slam outside. He sat up, blinking some tiredness out of his eyes. Apparently he had fallen asleep.

He quickly got up from his bed and peeked through the window blinds, trying to ignore his sore knuckles. His mother had come home, and was walking toward the house laden with her purse and several grocery bags. A quick glance around his room told him that nothing in his room was obviously amiss, such as a shelf on a wall having been knocked down, or his alarm clock actually smashed on the floor. At least he had gotten his homework done before the . . . incident.

Rob hurriedly ran toward his bed, hoping that he did not look too much that he had been sleeping before grabbing a random book from one of the shelves by his bed. A quick check of his knuckles told him that they still looked pretty bruised, but at least not quite as much. The pain had faded to a mere slight tingling when he touched the sore areas.

Sighing some in frustration, he opened the book, _Escape to Witch Mountain_ , and tried to read. He had gotten through a few pages when he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Rob, can I come in?" his mother asked.

Rob sighed and looked up from his book. "Yes," he called.

As his mother opened the door, he tried to unconspiciously lower his book enough to hide his bruised knuckles. He saw her smile, maybe since he was sitting up instead of lying on his bed in a dizzy haze again- though that had not happened today, and she knew it.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, coming over to him.

Rob shrugged. "Fine," he responded, hopefully nonchalantly.

His mother did not look completely convinced. Rob tried to not wince. Did she somehow actually know about his probable hallucination?

"You look a bit tired," she stated. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

Rob nearly sighed in relief. "Yeah," he responded, "and I got my homework done."

His mother smiled again. "That's good," she said. "I'm glad you seem to be feeling better."

Rob did not particularly want to add the word unspoken 'again' to that statement, and let his mother keep talking.

"I'm going to start on supper pretty soon," she continued. "It should be ready in about an hour. Do scones sound good?"

Rob nodded. It was a definitely a variety from the rice, toast, eggs, packaged noodles and even a couple pieces of rice crispy treats that he had had during the last several days.

"All right," his mother said, smiling some again. "Just don't forget to rest if you feel that you need to."

He nodded again, and was relieved when his mother left the room, closing the door behind her. Rob was about to start reading his book again, when some of the letters began to float above the pages. He watched curiously as the letters moved to form a message. Ghostwriter was telling him something. But what?

When the letter stopped moving, though, instead of a message, the words in front of him were a question.

_Are Senior Master Sergeant, Lieutenant Colonel, Brigadier General, Major, First Lieutenant, Captain, Chief Master Sergeant all military ranks in the air force?_

Rob stared at the question, somewhat baffled. Of all of the things that Ghostwriter could have asked him, it was something about military ranks?

He sighed. Of course, Ghostwriter knew that his father had been a Colonel in the air force. Rob had told him one time, after yet another argument with his father. He supposed that it made sense that Ghostwriter would ask him about this, instead of Jamal or someone else on the team.

Rob went to his desk and pulled out a piece of paper from a drawer before sitting back down on his bed. He then uncapped his pen from the cord around his neck that his friends had given him several months ago. Rob had to think back from being in many various air bases (as well as his father's insistence in knowing them that had been just plain annoying at the time) before writing an answer, using the book he had been reading as a hard surface.

_Yes_ , he responded, _but those are not all of the ranks. Those ranks that you mentioned are from two divisions: E (Enlisted) and O (Officer)._ _For the E ranks, the correct order of those you asked about is Senior Master Sergeant and Chief Master Sergeant._ _For the O ranks, they are First Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Lieutenant Colonel and Brigadier General._ _Colonel actually comes before Brigadier General._

Ghostwriter formed two others another message in the air, one right after the other.

_Thank you._  
_  
_ _So your father was a Lieutenant Colonel before becoming a Colonel?_

_Yes_ , Rob responded. He then penned another question. _Why did you ask about it?_

_I found what appears to be an old list of names of children and their parents with different ranks. You and your father were included, but I don't know if it is anything significant._

Rob frowned as he read the answer. Maybe someone from an air force base he had been at one time had created a list of some people there, for whatever reason?

_Did the list have my father as a Lieutenant Colonel?_ he asked.

_Yes_. _Do you want to see it?_

Rob shrugged. The list had to be at least three years old, then, if his father was still Lieutenant Colonel on it. Pure curiosity won out, though.

_Sure_ , he replied.

A list formed into the air. Rob stared at it, confused. It was shorter than he had thought it might be, at only sixteen kids' names and their parents.

_Madeline Aubert, daughter of Senior Master Sergeant Yvonne Aubert_  
_Robert Baker, son of Lieutenant Colonel Gordon Baker_  
_Henry George, son of Brigadier General Ryan George_  
_Benjamin George, son of Brigadier General Ryan George_  
_Daichi Kojima, son of Major Reo Kojima_  
_Ayoze Mirelez, son of Major Rayco Mirelez_  
_Bridget Nolan, daughter of Captain Kent Nolan_  
_Ivanka Novotná, daughter of First Lieutenant Jiri Novotný_  
_*Theodore Ross, son of Captain John Ross_  
_Kamil Rosický , son of Major Evzen Rosický_  
_José Sanchez, son of Captain Davíd Sanchez_  
_Heidi Schmidt, daughter of Chief Master Sergeant Marianne Schmidt_  
_Lisa Sherman, daughter of Colonel Liam Sherman_  
_María Villava, daughter of Major Nicolás Villava_  
_Liesel Werner, daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Kurt Werner_  
_Franziska Werner, daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Kurt Werner_

Rob reread the information, then copied the list down for pure interest, if not anything else. It was indeed military children and their parents, including rank. It was interesting that of the ranks were mostly at least somewhat higher ones, at that, though of course the officer ranks were always at a higher status that the enlisted ones in the first place. Rank in the air force bases had always driven him at least slightly crazy; he did not really care which kids' parents had which rank. Unfortunately, many of the kids (and the status of the sort of segregation on the bases) had been the opposite.

At least he was not on any base right now. He more concerned at the moment with being a bit miffed that although two kids on the list had a sibling, his own brother was not mentioned. By the time his father been promoted to a Lieutenant Colonel, though,- actually, a few months beforehand- Jason had been sent to a deaf school in the place where his family had happened to be at the time, which was Washington D.C.

He wrote another question to Ghostwriter. _What is nearby the list?_ he asked.

Rob watched as Ghostwriter circled his inquiry, then flew through the closed window of his bedroom. A few minutes later, the ghost came back with another answer, in the form of a letter.

_Hallo John,_

_(Yes, I will forever begin with that greeting in any letter to you._ _You know I will, right?)_

_Anyway, I wanted to make sure you knew of the location of the deaf seminar in Manhattan. My daughter, Kendra, will be attending- she's already quite skilled with the language._ _Many have said that she has natural talent._

_The location is 2239 3rd North Street, also known as Ghost Avenue._ _(Kendra will forever be telling ghost stories- what else?- whenever she sees that sign._ _And as you can probably guess, I cannot help but join in._ _Now I am thinking if a black cat drinking a potion that makes it grown spines which can sense zombies._ _Wonderful stuff, yes?)_

_Hope this letter reaches you fine, zombies and all._

_Cheers,  
_ _Kendrick_

Rob read the letter in confusion. The date on the letter was interesting, however. It was pretty recent, being from about a week ago. He had no idea who the people from the letter were, though the stuff about ghosts, zombies and other things was kind of interesting.

It seemed that the person named John might be carrying around the list with his name on it and would be attending a deaf seminar in Manhattan. The latter was also interesting, since his own brother was deaf. Maybe Ghostwriter even thought that the nickname of the street mentioned in the letter was amusing.

He debated, then copied the letter, and wrote another question. _Where is the list at?_

More letters flew upward form several messages in the air.

_Room 331_  
_Guaranteed Customer Satisfaction New York Hotel Service- Quick and Efficient!  
_ _Brooklyn Coastal Tours- One of a Kind!_

Rob frowned at the three messages and copied them into his piece of paper. Apparently the person named John was staying in some random hotel in Brooklyn somewhere, but he did not know which one.

He sighed. Even if he would be allowed a trip out of the house, the hotel would not give out classified information to anyone that asked, especially if the person had gone away from the hotel before he got there. Some hotels even had security checkpoints that only people with special permission could go through.

He reread all of the messages, flipping the paper over as had had to write on the back for part of the letter, and frowned a bit. There simply did not seem to be any hidden information that the person was any sort of criminal, or any other sort of actual mystery at all.

Rob scrawled another question. _Why is there an asterisk by a row on the list?_

Ghostwriter answered. _I don't know. I haven't been able to find anything correlating with the list nearby._

He read the answer and shrugged. _That's fine_ , he replied.

Maybe the list really had nothing to do with anything, though he only half-believed the answer. If the list actually meant nothing, then why would Ghostwriter have sent it to him in the first place?

Rob then frowned. Perhaps that was only him wanting it to mean something, though. Ghostwriter could read a whole lot of things, and not everything he read and relayed to the team was a part of a mystery that they could help solve. The friendly ghost had even just chatted with him several times about books that they had both read. This time, he could have been just curious that a member of the team's name was on a random list that he had chanced to discover.

He sighed, then put his pen against the paper again. _Thanks,_ he wrote.

_You're welcome,_ Ghostwriter replied. _I will let you know if I find something that seems both related and useful in any way._

Rob nodded, grateful. The letters in the air soon faded, and he watched the familiar sparks travel from nearby to fly again through the closed window.

He set the book down on his bed and carried the folder to his desk. Opening his closet doors, he pulled an empty folder- it was actually one that he had used in several schools a few years ago, and was still in good condition- and slipped the paper inside. After closing the folder, he set it on his desk.

Rob went back to reading the book on his bed and was at the point where Tony and Tia had just run away from Hackett House, when his mother knocked on the door, telling him that it was time for supper. He blanched a bit, remembering his bruised knuckles.

Rob closed his book, and set it down on his bed before standing up to go to the kitchen. Hopefully neither of his parents would pay any close attention to his hands.

* * *

Rob zoomed down the sidewalk near the bodega on his skateboard. He sighed, still relieved that he had finally gotten both his Math and Science tests done. Hopefully he had gotten high grades on both of them. Today had been the Science one. At least he was caught up with those now.

"Hey, Rob!" someone called from nearby. "Over here!"

Rob turned his head to see Gaby waving at him from the doorway of the bodega. He angled his skateboard to the slightly open doorway. Gaby then came out of the store, the bell jingling above the door.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Want to help make cupcakes?" she asked. "Lenni and Alex are also going to help."

Rob was confused. "What for?"

"For my science teacher," she said. "They're moving, and the whole grade is making a secret party for her." She grinned. "And everyone in the grade _knows_ that she really likes cupcakes."

"Are you the only one making them?"

The Latino girl shook her head. "No, others are too. But I'm sure that mine will be the best. I got a _lot_ of sprinkles."

Rob had to try to not roll his eyes. Just having sprinkles- even in multiple quantities- did not automatically mean that any type of cake would be good.

"Have you ever made cupcakes before?" he asked.

Gaby nodded. "Yup, and other things too, like stuff that Mama said that she used to make back when she was in El Salvador."

Rob looked toward back at the bodega. "So where were you going to make them?" he asked, looking back at Gaby. Behind the glass door, he had spotted several customers waiting in line, as well as even some more looking at various items. It seemed to be a busy time in the store.

Gaby pointed, and Rob turned to see the steep steps that led to Lenni's loft. "At Lenni's house. We're going to make strawberry cupcakes, and also two different chocolate recipes from Lenni's dad. Lenni's made both before, as cake _and_ cupcakes." She then grinned a little mischievously. "Also, the helpers get to taste the results."

Rob grinned a little bit. Taste tester or not, he was glad to be with his friends out of sick mode. "Sure, sounds good," he said.

Gaby laughed. "I _knew_ that last part would convince you," she stated brightly. "I just gotta get the supplies, and also Alex. He _should_ be done counting his money to see if he has enough to pay half the cost of a new bike already."

She burst back into the bodega. A few minutes later, she came out carrying a large plastic bag. Alex was behind her, looking a little grumpy.

"You could have looked where you were going," he grumbled, rubbing his head a little bit.

His sister shrugged as she walked toward Lenni's house. "Well, _you_ should know better than to stand right in front of the door. Anybody could have walked into you. And I _did_ help you clean up."

Alex rolled his eyes as they all started up the steep steps that led to Lenni's loft. "Yeah, yeah," he replied, huffing in exasperation.

Lenni let the three of them in with a smile. "Hi!" she said cheerfully, smiling at them.

Gaby grinned as she came inside. "Ready to bake?" she asked, putting the bag she was carrying carefully on the color tiled counter, amongst multiple baking supplies and ingredients.

Lenni nodded. "Yeah. I turned the oven on, and I got the cook book with those two recipes in it, and also everything needed in them."

She gestured to the crowded counter. Rob noted several packs of instant chocolate pudding, baking chocolate and a large jar of marshmellow cream crowded with other things on part of the counter.

"So are at least some of the chocolate ones are going to be filled?" he asked curiously.

Lenni nodded. "Yeah. My dad always says that his band especially likes those."

"Sounds good to me," Alex said. "How do you fill them anyway?"

The brown-haired girl grinned. "That's easy," she replied. "You just put half of the batter in the bottom of the paper, then some cream, and then more batter on top. You've just got to make sure that you don't put too much cream so that you see the it after the paper on the cupcake is taken off."

Alex nodded. "Neat."

"Could we work on the strawberry ones first?" Gaby asked. "You have to get the juice from the strawberries and everything."

Lenni considered it, putting one hand on her chin. "Maybe we could split into groups," she suggested.

Gaby was frowning a little bit. "But we only have four people and three recipes," she pointed out. "That would mean someone would be working alone on one of them."

"Maybe we could work on two at a time," Rob suggested. "That way we could get two done faster, and then work on the last one together."

Lenni and even Gaby was also nodding. "Sure," Lenni suggested. "We could work on Gaby's strawberry recipe, and one of the chocolate ones from my dad. Do you care which one we do first?"

"I want to help with the cream one," Gaby stated.

Lenni shrugged. "So we can save that one for last."

"That sounds good," Alex said approvingly. "Especially that Gaby was telling me that we can have some after we make them."

Gaby laughed. "I told Rob the same thing."

Rob only shrugged, grinning a little bit.

Lenni smiled. "So we can get started. Who's going to work on which recipe? I was going to do the chocolate pudding one, since I've made it before."

"I can always go for chocolate," Alex said, eyeing the pudding boxes.

Lenni turned toward Rob. "So you're okay helping Gaby with the strawberry?"

Rob nodded. "Sure," he replied.

They split up. Rob saw Lenni handing Alex a glass bowl for melting the baking chocolate while Gaby chattered away, getting the supplies out of the large bag she had brought.

"So have you ever made cupcakes before?" she asked as she set out a large container of strawberries and several measuring cups on the counter.

Rob nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you ever make them with Jason?"

He started a little bit, watching Gaby place a large saucepan that Lenni had let her borrow on the stove. He had forgotten for a little bit that he had actually told the team about his older brother. He realized that the Latino girl had asked the question without any hint of skepticism, but only pure curiosity.

It was strange, to say that least, but comforting that they had accepted Jason. A lot of people that he had met in many of the air force bases never even knew that he had a sibling, especially since Jason was rarely home.

Rob managed to nod, hoping that it looked natural. "Yeah, sometimes."

He purposely left of the part that his first memory of making cupcakes with only him and Jason was when he had accidently left out the baking powder. Sure, Jason had had a fun time watching them explode in the oven, but Rob had not been quite as excited. At least that had been the only time that had happened.

Gaby dumped the strawberries into the pan, as well as some water and sugar. "Could you measure the other stuff out for the cake?" she asked, pointing to a large metal measuring bowl that Lenni had helpfully placed on their side of the counter.

Rob quickly nodded. "Sure," he said.

He walked to the open cookbook, glad to see that the instructions were in English. Apparently not everything in the Fernandez house was in Spanish, though he supposed that kind of made sense, since they lived in Brooklyn.

He checked the recipe book, and carefully measured out the flour. Rob had reached for the sugar, when a whole bunch of letters flew into the air from the cookbook.

The letters settled into fairly long message. He supposed that it was a good thing that he happened to be near a whole lot of handy words for Ghostwriter to use. Apparently the ghost had found something correlating to the weird list that he had found- and the letter- several days earlier, since the phrase "Lieutenant Colonel" was in it. It was a little weird that Ghostwriter had sent the message with other members of the team around, but maybe he thought that they could help?

_*Theodore Ross, currently age 14, lives on the southern side_  
_of Manhattan, New York. I had sent you the address_  
_previously, but had mislaid the name. His father_  
_retired as a Lieutenant Colonel two years ago due_  
_to multiple injuries._

_Sorry, I don't know the current location of anyone else on_  
_this list, including in New York (or Mars, Jupiter, or the like)_

_I would have written all of this on the back of the other_  
_papers, if not for the weird swirly things on cerulean_  
_that looks suspiciously like wrapping paper._

_Official current status with this mission:_  
_Not a total failure (I suppose that is a plus)_

_Daddy, you're nuts._

_Oh? I thought I was a bear._

_Bears don't eats nuts._

_Exactly my point. Now, shall I send the letter_  
_to John?_

_Don't forget to stop by Mars._

_One stop at a Martian telephone joint, coming up._

_Wheeeee!_

Rob was still staring at the message when Gaby turned around.

"Hey, Ghostwriter's sent us something!" she exclaimed.

Lenni and Alex turned from the bowl front of the microwave. Alex dropped the wire whisk he had been stirring with and rushed over with Lenni with to read the message.

"That's a long message," Lenni said, frowning at it.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "And kind of weird, too."

Rob went to his backpack that he had placed on the other side of the counter and pulled out a notebook. He then went around to the front of the message- unlike Jason, he was not quite too proficient with reading things backwards- and after uncapping his pen from the cord around his neck, began to copy it down, being careful to even get the words on the correct lines.

He kind of wished that he had his notes that he had written down, then remembered that Ghostwriter could easily just send them to him right now. Then again, that might be a lot of extra work for the ghost when he could just go three blocks to his own house. Plus, they _were_ in the middle of making cupcakes for Gaby's school teacher.

"What's a 'lai-oo' . . . 'lai-eh-oo'- What's that word?" he heard Gaby ask. "The one beside 'Colonel?' "

"Lieutenant," Rob replied, without looking up.

"Oh, Lieutenant Colonel," the Latino girl stated. "What's that? Is it like a Colonel?"

Rob shrugged as he recapped his pen. "Sort of. They're one rank lower than Colonel- at least in the air force, anyway- and they don't have as much authority."

"I wonder why Ghostwriter sent that message," Lenni commented, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Rob saw Alex suddenly turn around to him, seeming to realize something. "Wait, the letters were in front of you, weren't they?" he stated. "So Ghostwriter was sending the message to you. Why's that?"

Rob shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Well, Ghostwriter found an old list that had my name on it several days ago," he admitted. "Also my father's name, and other military kids and one of their parents. I guess he found something that might go along with it."

The Latino boy stared incredulously. "Why didn't you tell us?" he demanded. "We could have helped with whatever it was."

His sister nodded. "Yeah, you _know_ we're a team," she added, folding her arms.

Rob huffed, a little annoyed. "There didn't seem to be any mystery to solve," he said. "It was just an old list- Okay, and also letter that someone had written recently," he amended. He went on, ignoring Alex as the Latino boy seemed about to say something. "But even then, it wasn't really much of anything to go by. There just wasn't enough information." He sure hoped that his friends believed him, instead it seeming that he had been trying to hide something from them.

By now, Ghostwriter's message had faded. Rob glanced at the copied version in his notebook. He could see at least a little bit of correlation with at least the list, as well as the letter, but he really wanted to compare them with the ghost's most previous discovery, and he did not have the previous one with him.

Plus, there was a different problem currently. "Well, it looks like we've got something to look over later," Lenni said, eyeing the messy kitchen, "but we do still have to make the cupcakes."

Gaby's eyes suddenly went wide. "Oh, the strawberries!" she exclaimed, running to the stove.

Alex frowned as he watched her feverishly stir them. "You didn't burn them, did you?"

His sister stirred them a little more, then turned her head around to look at him. "No, they were sticking a little, but they're not burned," she replied. "Thank goodness."

She went back to stirring them, then lifted up some with the wooden spoon. "They look done," she announced.

Alex shrugged. "That's good." He then walked over to where Lenni was stirring the chocolate with a wire whisk.

"I think that we need to microwave it again," Lenni said. "It's thickened too much."

"Oh, brother," Alex mumbled, but waiting until the brunette girl had lifted the whisk before opening up the microwave and replacing the bowl back inside.

Rob went back to his and Gaby's bowl, then checked the cookbook. If he remembered correctly, Ghostwriter had come right after he had measure the flour. Plus, it sure didn't look like he had added anything else into the bowl.

He added the other ingredients while Gaby mix up the frosting, including some of the juice from the strawberries. Soon, they made the other cupcakes, with Alex teasing Gaby for somehow getting a bunch of marshmallow cream on her face.

Rob had just finished a cupcake with cream inside, when Lenni spoke up again.

"So did you write down that list with your name on it, and also the letter that Ghostwriter sent you?" she asked.

Rob nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"So could we meet sometime soon to take a look at them, and also the message that Ghostwriter sent us today?"

He shrugged. "Sure, I guess," he said, a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I really don't know if there is really a mystery to go along with it-"

Alex interrupted. "Hey, if Ghostwriter sent it, then there's got to be something unsolved about it," he stated, raising an eyebrow. "Even if it _does_ include stuff about Mars."

"Not necessarily," he responded. "I mean, the list is at least three years old-"

"But you said that the letter was recent," Gaby interjected. "Right?"

Rob shrugged helplessly. "Well, yeah, but-"

The Latino girl interrupted again. "Just because something has your name on it doesn't mean that there's not a mystery," she pointed.

Rob huffed. "Fine, fine," he responded, a bit testily. "I'll show you guys what Ghostwriter had sent earlier."

Alex grinned. "Hey, like Gaby said before, we _are_ team."

His sister also smiled. "Yeah, I did," she said, smirking a little.

Beside her, Lenni was nodding. "Yeah," she agreed. "We can at least be together with it, even if nothing does come out of it. Besides, maybe Ghostwriter seemed to want us to look at all of it. He _did_ send you the message while Alex, Gaby and I were also here."

"Yeah, I guess," Rob consented.

Maybe Ghostwriter merely thought that it was nothing, but just thought that it would be fun for the team to look at for whatever reason? He did not know, but sure hoped that nothing bad or embarrassing would happen due to it.

. . . Plus, he really was not looking forward to possibly explaining more about military culture to his civilian friends. He had been quite happy to leave the air force bases for good when his father had announced that he would be retiring. Hopefully, he would not have to tell too much about military stuff, and if any mystery really was waiting to be found, it would have to do with something else.

A bit later, he followed Alex and Gaby down the stairs Lenni's loft with a few more cupcakes that Gaby insisted that he take home with him, due to them having made way more than enough for her teacher's going away party. Even if him having friends was a little weird, he supposed that he liked spending time with them, and definitely not just for treats. Unlike in several air force bases, he was not just the weird colonel's kid- or the deaf kid's brother- to them, or anything like that.

Rob soon reached his own house and unlocked the door. Checking the clock in the living room, he saw that it was about six pm. He knew that he was on his own for supper, since both of his parents were coming from work later today.

He put the leftover cupcakes in a container and placed them in the counter near the bread box. At least he did not have to cook anything today, since there were plenty of leftovers. The leftover cupcakes could be for tomorrow, and the following days.

He turned around to pick up his skateboard that he had left by the counter-

* * *

Rob looked up, seeing familiar brown-colored cupboards. Confused, he realized that he had lifted his head from near his knees, which were tucked up near his chest. For whatever reason, he was sitting down in his family's tiled floor kitchen, with his arms wrapped around his legs.

How had that happened? It was rather weird, and he sure didn't remember it.

Rob lifted his arms before standing and automatically checked his watch. He then gasped.

Six thirty-four?

He stood and checked the clock on the wall, which told the same time. Rob then stared at his watch again. It was now six thirty-five.

Knowing the current time definitely did not quell his growing shock, though. He quickly glanced around the room, trying not to panic. Nothing looked amiss. Even his skateboard was nearby on the floor, just as he had left it.

He looked at the clock again, maybe even for reconfirmation of the missed passage of time, even as the word _again_ rang through his mind over and over.

Again. It had happened again. It was suddenly later, he was in a different position than he remembered being in, and did not recall a single thing about what had occurred.

Sure, at least apparently he had not thrown anything, and- he checked his hands, even though they were not hurting at all- and he had not been whacking cupboards, or something else, but he distinctly remembered checking the clock in the living before going into the kitchen. It had been just a couple minutes before six.

Also, at least his parents were not home yet? He supposed that was a good thing.

Rob shakily picked up his skateboard and went to his room. He was not actually hungry at the moment, but he better have some sort of supper before his mom found out that he had not. He knew that she had emptied the dishwasher this morning, and that there would be a missing plate in the dishwasher that was supposed to be his from supper.

Plus, she might think that he was sick _again_ , even though he was not (he hoped?). What _had_ happened, though (again . . .), he was not sure.

Rob sighed as he plodded toward the kitchen after slinging a strap of his backpack over his desk chair. Hopefully nothing else would happen.


	4. Continuation

Rob rechecked the math pop quiz that he had just taken on, with various topics from throughout the school year. He was pretty sure that he had gotten everything correct. The previous unit, which included the order of operations in fractions, was especially easy for him.

He then set his pencil down and glanced at the one of the weird clocks on the wall. The math teacher's slightly interesting sense of humor expanded to the things around the classroom. Not only were the clock's numbers were backward, but were also in reverse order from where they usually were. At least this clock was a bit easier to read that the other one, though. On that one, all of the numbers were in a huge pile on the bottom. Interestingly enough, the teacher, Mr. Kinsen, never had a problem reading either clock.

Rob checked his watch, satisfied to find that he had gotten the time correct. There was about five minutes left in the half hour that the teacher had stated that the class was allowed for the quiz. The only exception was Kelly Farmer, the dyslexic girl who was currently taking a special form of the test in the computer lab.

He then quickly glanced around the room. Predictably, Jamal was already finished, and was looking at the window. A few other students were done, including Alicia Bensen, who was yawning beside him, but most of the students were still working.

Pretty soon, the teacher announced that it was time to pick up the papers.

"Couldn't you just tell us when the next quiz will be?" pleaded Hillary Whitford from the back of the room.

Mr. Kinsen had a thoughtful look on his face. "Hmm," he said, stroking his chin. "Perhaps if you said that you like numbers, then they would like you better. Better yet, trying to jump over a large rectangular prism is a whole lot easier if you have a spring, but one is not always available, now is it? That's like trying to jump over a herd of elephants in . . . Hmm."

"Try Africa," one student helpfully stated from behind Rob.

The teacher nodded gratefully. "Ah, right. Africa," he repeated. He then shrugged. "A good thing that I was not forced to teach geography, I would think. I much prefer equations and factorials, rainbow ones included."

Some students laughed. The teacher had been reviewing some things right before the quiz, and had only first been able to find a bit of blue chalk, for whatever reason. Then when the blue chalk had run out, he had found some green and pink ones in the closet. As per usual, Mr. Kinsen was not too fussy about certain things, such as only having white chalk. In contrary, he had said that he found it fun to write different types of equations and other things in various colors, including lines on a grid.

He had finished collecting the papers and was now writing the day's homework in green chalk on the board. He then wrote a message, obviously for himself, stating "More chalk" on the top corner and picked up a piece of pink chalk and drew a large circle around it.

"There," he stated as he drew a large checkmark with one of the green pieces of chalk before placing it back on the rim of the chalkboard. "Surely I will remember to go the stockroom with that- if someone hasn't forgotten to stock it again, that is. I may even have to go the new department store so that I don't have an absolute value of zero chalk for the next week."

Rob shook his head at the teacher's usual somewhat random remarks, often sprinkled with math vocabulary. Mr. Kinsen then checked the clock with the numbers on the bottom, and nodded.

"Ah, so it is fifty four times ten seconds to the bell," he announced.

Rob heard a whispered, "How does he _do_ that?" from somewhere behind him, obviously more about the teacher reading the odd clock than the multiplication problem.

Mr. Kinsen went on. "I would advise you stay at your rectangular prisms minus one side, which so happen to be attached to cylinders that are touching the floor, for the time being." He then got yet another one of his thoughtful looks on his face. "I wonder what happen if the cylinders could be detached, and were useable?" he stated, more to himself than anyone else in the classroom. "It would make interesting material for creating things, including obtuse angles and three dimensional octagons."

"So would we have to be in the air, like _Mary Poppins_?" one student asked, a bit doubtfully.

Mr. Kinsen shrugged like it was not an unusual question. "Perhaps."

Soon afterward, most of the students began to talk. Rob opened out book that he had brought, _Time For Andrew_ , and took out the bookmark-

* * *

Rob opened his eyes to see a spinning white ceiling above him. It was almost like déjà vu, really. He blinked, trying not to wince at a small headache.

His eyes then widened slightly in surprise. No, this was absolutely more than déjà vu. This had definitely happened before. He had awoken in the same place, with the room, including the annoying light above him, spinning endlessly . . .

"So, Rob Baker, how do you feel?"

Rob turned his head toward the sort of familiar voice. Through his vertigo, he saw the same male medical assistant that he had seen when he had collapsed in the cafeteria.

The word _again_ popped into his mind. But how could that be possible? He was not _still_ sick . . . right?

"Tired," he mumbled.

He _was_ tired. Just like before . . .

Rob closed his eyes as the medical assistant began to scribble on his clipboard. Sometime later- maybe hours; he had noticed that time seemed to stretch on when he was dizzy- the vertigo lessoned and so did the headache. So did a good portion of his exhaustion, actually. He was only a bit tired when his mother came.

"Rob!" she exclaimed, obviously surprised to see her son sitting up.

Rob grinned some, yet still was rather embarrassed. "Hi," he said, a bit awkwardly.

What could he say now? It was rather obvious that his mother would not let him go back to class.

"I feel fine now, actually," Rob said. He saw the medical person raise an eyebrow. "Well, mostly," he admitted.

His mother nodded. "Let's go home for now, and see if anything else happens," she said.

Rob sighed. "Fine."

Why could he not have collapsed in a much later period of the day, instead of the second one, or even at home? At least then he would not have to depend on his friends' notes as much.

Once again, he went to his locker and collected his backpack and skateboard (a school aide had already gotten his things from the math classroom) and went with his mother in her car. He stared a bit despondently out the window as they left the school parking lot. At least they were not going to a doctor this time. Rob turned back to the book that he not been able to read in the last few minutes of Math.

His mother soon parked the car in the driveway. Rob got out, still feeling a bit tired, but at least not too hugely so.

Once she had opened the door, Rob felt a hand push him toward his room. "You should rest, even if you really don't feel that tired," his mother stated. "Obviously, you're not completely well yet." She sighed, her face looking a bit shamed. "I should have noticed," she then said, more to herself than Rob.

Rob resisted rolling his eyes as he obliged, walking toward his room. Fine, he would rest some- and do his homework that he had, which was not much. And read.

His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered the message that Ghostwriter had sent yesterday. He could also work on that . . . if his mother would even allow him to do homework currently. That was "probably" not the type of resting she had in mind. No doubt she would check on him soon.

Rob opened the door to his room and placed a strap of his backpack over his desk chair, and deposited his skateboard into his closet. He then sat on his bed, feeling a bit resentful.

He really did not feel too tired at the moment, at least not so much to take a nap, even though he _had_ collapsed (again . . .) earlier. Why could he just not get over his stupid cold, or whatever it was? If it was a prolonged version of the flu, or something else like it, why had the tests at both the doctor and the hospital not picked up on it? Maybe him feeling better now instead of in a dizzy stupor on his bed meant that he was at least finally getting better, though.

Rob sighed and checked his watch. It was now ten twenty-two, the time when he would usually be having the music theory class, and a little more than an hour after he had fainted. Hopefully Jamal and his other friends at Hurston were not too worried about him.

He stood and went to his backpack to get his book, wincing a bit as another headache began to pulse strongly-

And he fell to the floor.

He winced. He supposed that falling down on a rug did not really hurt too much as much as harder ground, but it still did not too comfortable. However, that was not as frustrating, as painful, as frightening as the sudden vertigo, exhaustion and an immense throbbing headache that he currently felt.

The word _again_ went through his mind as he remembered sort of falling after walking from a music theory class with Jamal . . .

Through a haze of pain and dizziness, he tried to move, but frustratingly could not do much more than move his fingers ever so slightly as well as his head. The latter even made his headache worse.

Rob tried not to groan at the pain, as well as the realization that his mother was absolutely correct in his need to rest. It seemed to him that there was no way that she could have predicted this, though. The situation was just too crazy, in a way. Why was he so tired that he could not move? Ought he have to be, well, not conscious if he really felt this bad?

He heard the sound of the door to his room being flung open.

"Rob!" his mother exclaimed. He heard her run to him. "Rob, are you all right?" she asked, her voice closer.

Rob forced opened his eyes- it was really hard to keep them open with the impulse to keep them shut with his immense headache- and stared at his mother kneeling right by him, spinning around and around like the rest of the room.

"I feel really dizzy," he mumbled, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

He closed his eyes again against as the pain in his head kept on throbbing. He felt his mother check his pulse- why did people do that?- and heard her gasp.

Rob forced his eyes open. "What?" he managed to say.

He tried to focus on his mother's face as she looked at him, but it was rather hard with the pain and dizziness.

"Your pulse is going wild," she said, her voice shaking a little. "I'm going to call for an ambulance."

"What?" Rob said again, his eyes widening as some more panic raced through him.

His mother put a hand on his forehead. "You don't have fever, at least," she said quietly. "Just stay there, Rob. I'll be right back. Don't try to move."

Rob saw his mother go out of his field of vision, and closed his eyes. He could not ignore the fear racing through him. What was going on?

His mother soon came back to him. "Rob?" she asked.

Rob forced his eyes open again. The room- and now his mother again- was still spinning.

"I've made the call, and they're on their way," she informed him, brushing aside some stray hairs on his forehead. "Just stay still," she said again. "They're coming."

His mother stayed with him until the paramedics came. He felt himself being lifted onto (great, another) stretcher. His mother stayed talking to them even as he felt some wind around him, and knew that he was outside.

"Are you coming with us?" someone asked.

"Yes, definitely," his mother responded.

Rob opened his eyes again to see the familiar view of an ambulance. The scene of the small room and his mother swirled before him even as the vehicle started up again.

Someone checked his pulse. "Still extremely rapid," they stated calmly.

He was slightly glad when his mother took his hand, and stayed talking to him throughout the whole ambulance ride, as one of the personnel nearby suggested.

Rob mostly kept his eyes shut against the pain, even when he felt the stretcher lifted onto the ground. Somehow, him being awake the whole time made it worse that the last time he had gone in an ambulance to the hospital, coupled with the sheer throbbing headache and dizziness. He sure hoped that someone this time would find out what was really wrong.

* * *

Rob sighed as he sat on the side of a hospital bed.

"Are you all right?" his mother asked from nearby.

He nodded. At least he was not feeling dizzy at all, or had a headache, or felt tired. Actually, he felt perfectly fine now. The doctors had not even made him changed into any stupid hospital clothing, which was nice.

His father was coming at some point. His mother had been able to get ahold of him by phone earlier, and Rob had heard her tell him about the situation. After hanging up, she had then Rob told that his father would be coming when he could. His father had stated over the phone that he was not sure what time he would be able to get there, due to a large traffic jam right close to the hospital that someone at his work had reported, caused by an oil leak, of all things.

Rob went back to reading his book, _The One Hundred and One Dalmatians_. The novel was one that he had borrowed from surprisingly large collection from a recreation room nearby and interestingly, one that he had not read before. He had not even known that the Disney movie had apparently been made from a book.

He was half-way through the novel, when he heard someone come through the door. He looked up to see his father.

Rob saw his father smile some, though it looked a bit strained. "Hello, Rob," he greeted him.

"Hi, Dad," Rob replied, lowering the book to his lap.

His father then turned to his mother, who was sitting on a chair near the bed. "Did they find out what's wrong?" he asked her.

His mother shook her head. "No," she replied, glancing at Rob for a second. "Rob just doesn't currently have any symptoms of any sort of cold or sickness, or just anything that could have caused him to collapse."

She looked at Rob again before talking. "A doctor came just about ten minutes ago," she said. "It was still the same as an hour before, after his other symptoms subsided. They just can't find anything wrong; not even a hint of a fever."

His father's face turned stern. "Nothing?" he asked doubtfully.

Rob saw his mother nod, her face looking a bit wan. "It's just seems like that when the earlier problems stopped, so did anything that could have shown what caused it. Rob checked out perfectly normal."

His father frowned. "Obviously he's not, if he collapsed not once, but _twice_ in one day," his father responded testily. "Even though he was conscious for the entirety of the second time, _something_ is going on, and obviously, the doctors and everyone else has missed it."

His mother sighed, standing up. "Gordon, they just don't know-"

"I want to know what's wrong with my son!"

Rob winced as his parents continued to argue. It was rather embarrassing, not to say the least that it was about him, and his rather evasive sickness (or whatever it was) in the first place. At least they were not talking very loudly.

Sometime later, yet another doctor came, and did another basic check-up. Rob saw that his father was very frustrated throughout the whole examination.

Not too long later, the confused doctor pronounced him totally fine, with absolutely nothing wrong that he could tell. His father was practically looking daggers at the doctor as he said that, though he did not say anything.

"Are you _sure_ you can't find anything wrong?" his mother asked worriedly.

The doctor nodded as he put his stethoscope and other instruments away on the cart that he had brought with him. "Nothing seems to be abnormal," he replied formally. "I don't think that Rob needs to stay in the hospital overnight, though I would recommend at least one full day away from any sort of strenuous activity, including school. If any problems persist, he should probably see a specialist, and see what they find."

Rob tried not groan as the doctor finished loading the cart and said a farewell him and his parents before he left the room, bringing his cart with him. Yet again, he would be staying home from school. At least he would be spending the time in his house, and not the hospital.

Soon afterward, he was released from the hospital and at last, he went with his parents outside.

"I feel _fine_ ," he protested as he got into his father's small brown car.

He saw his father turn around in the driver's seat. "You should not overexert yourself, Rob. I don't want you to become any worse."

His stern tone left no room for any objections. Rob huffed in frustration as his father started his car and moved out the parking space.

"I feel fine," he repeated irritably, making sure that the words were too soft for anyone but him to hear.

Of course, his parents maybe did not really believe he was. He sighed, looking out the window as the car moved out of the parking lot. Maybe he did not really believe it, either.

* * *

Rob looked once again at Jamal's notes, this time for Science. At least they were definitely clear enough to understand. His dark-skinned friend definitely understood the subject well, and also Math.

He finished the last question of the homework- and the last of all of his homework for today, at least, and lowered his pencil.

Yet again, another day home from school. He then shrugged. At least he could write, now that his homework was done.

He had just opened the flap of his backpack, when he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," he called.

His mother opened the door. She smiled some as she walked to him.

"How are you feeling, Rob?" she asked.

Rob resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the question he had been asked several times that day. "Fine," he replied. "Really, completely fine. I'm not even tired."

He really was not tired. Surely his mother could see that. Hopefully his father would feel the same, once he came home from work.

His mother brushed some hair from his forehead with the palm of her hand. "You don't have a fever that I can tell," she stated. She chuckled a bit ruefully. "I just hope that I'm really not out of my senses with me thinking about sending you to school tomorrow."

Rob groaned. "Really, I don't _want_ to miss school again," he complained.

Thankfully, his mother nodded. "I understand," she agreed. "While I don't know what caused you to collapse all those times, maybe the last time where you never lost consciousness was a sign that that you were at least getting over whatever it was."

He shrugged. "I guess."

She ruffled his hair before he could object. Rob ducked away even as she took her hand away.

"Does spaghetti sound good for supper?" she asked.

"Yeah."

His mother nodded, smiling again. "All right," she said. "I'll get started on it in about thirty minutes, so it should be ready by six."

"Okay."

His mother left his room, closing the door behind her. Rob grinned some. He was pretty sure that his mother was absolutely not crazy with him going to school tomorrow.

His grin then turned into a worried frown. His mother would not be crazy as long as nothing really did happen, such as the random forgotten time periods . . .

Attempting to shove his worries aside, he put away his school things and got a clean piece of paper to write another poem.

* * *

"So could we see the list and other things that Ghostwriter had sent you?" Gaby asked, interested.

Rob nodded, going to his closet and taking out a spare binder. His friends had made a surprise visit after supper, and not surprisingly, after seeing that he was just fine, they had wanted to see what Ghostwriter had sent him a while ago.

He went back to his desk and opened the binder. Inside were the carefully copied notes from the original ones to one not the things that he had written to Ghostwriter, as well another copy of the things that the ghost had sent him on the day that he had helped make cupcakes at Lenni's house. He took out the three pieces of paper with the information and set them all next to each other.

His five friends crowded around him to read what he had written.

"That's a lot of military ranks," Jamal said, looking at the list.

Rob saw Tina looking quite confused, from between Lenni and Gaby. "Why does it say that your dad's a Lieutenant Colonel?" she asked. "I thought he was a Colonel."

"It's an _old_ list," Gaby explained. She turned to Rob. "You said that Lieutenant Colonel is one rank lower than Colonel , right?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah, that's what he was before being promoted."

"When was he promoted?" Lenni asked.

Gaby got a big grin on her face. "Was there a big party?"

Rob shrugged. He did not really prefer to remember that particular time, especially since it had seemed that his dad had been promoted for sending Jason away a few months before, although that was of course would not have been the case.

"He got promoted three years ago," he said nonchalantly. "And yeah, there was a ceremony, like all the other promotions. He got the Colonel eagle."

"An eagle?" Alex asked.

Rob nodded again. "Yeah, an eagle is the sign on a soldier's uniform to show others that they're a colonel."

"What about a Lieutenant Colonel?" Alex asked, looking interested.

"A silver oak leaf," Rob responded.

Meanwhile, Tina was still looking at the list. "They look like they're in alphabetical order," she said.

Gaby joined her friend in studying the paper. "A lot of the names aren't from America," she commented. She then grinned. "I see three Spanish ones."

"Hey, you're right," Alex stated. "Three Spanish kids and their fathers- Ayoze Mirelez, son of Major Rayco Mirelez; José Sanchez, son of Captain Davíd Sanchez-"

"And a girl, María Villava, daughter of Major Nicolás Villava," Gaby finished. "I wonder if we would be the same age."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Probably not," he replied. "She could even be in high school by now."

"How would _you_ know?" Gaby protested, putting her hands on her hips. "Maybe her father's even a colonel now, like Rob's was."

"You don't even know what order the ranks go in," Alex pointed out. "For all you know, Major is a higher rank than a Colonel."

Gaby frowned. "You don't know that, either." then looked at Rob. "Well, which is it?" she demanded.

Rob had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the sibling squabble, and about military ranks, off all things. "Well, Colonel is actually a higher rank," he informed her. He hid a grin when he saw Alex's face deflate a bit. "Sorry, Alex."

The Latino boy only shrugged. "Well, rank is rank," he said. He then pointed to the list. "So what order do the ranks actually go in? Tina's right when she said that the list is in alphabetical order. Plus, Major is on it four times, before and even after Colonel, so there's no way they're in order by rank."

Rob nodded. He then got out turned to a blank piece of paper in the binder (he had put in plenty more just in case of notes, and any notes for Ghostwriter), and as he had done with Ghostwriter, listed out the named enlisted and officer ranks. He then set the finished list above the one that Ghostwriter had sent.

Jamal was looking impressed. "Wow, you sure know a lot about military stuff."

Rob shrugged. "Eh, knowing the names of the ranks is mostly common knowledge in military bases," he replied.

"Military bases?" Lenni asked. "Did you visit them to see you father?"

He sighed. His friends _were_ civilians. Then again, he was supposed to be one now, also. "No, I lived on them."

Alex's eyes widened. "You actually _lived_ on military bases?" he asked, impressed. "Were there a lot of soldiers marching and stuff?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah, they're pretty common." That was quite an understatement, but he really did not need to go into the full details.

"Do all military kids live on bases?" Tina asked.

He shook his head. "Nah, it's not required for everyone. A lot of times, you actually get a choice to live on or off base." He shrugged. "From what I can remember, my dad's work always required him to live on base, so that's what we did."

"Jason, too?" Gaby asked.

Rob tried not to wince. "Yeah, he did," he affirmed. "Until he started going to deaf school."

Thank goodness Gaby asked another question just then. "What's different about enlisted and officer ranks?" she asked.

Rob explained. "Well, it's kind of like different types of positions," he said. "Most of the enlisted are more of the general public of the air force, and the officers are trained more to be the leaders."

"So the officers are a higher rank than the enlisted ones, then," Jamal commented, looking at Rob for confirmation.

Rob nodded. "Yeah."

Alex looked impressed again. "So you're really a higher rank, if your father was a colonel. Neat."

Rob tried hard to suppress a sudden urge to smack the Latino boy, and had to severely tell himself that yet again, his friends were civilians. Then again, many kids in the air force bases had thought the same thing as Alex, thinking less of a whole of others with lower ranks, including the Airman of the enlisted ranks.

"It was my father that was the higher rank," Rob stated, attempting to control his anger. "Not me."

Lenni was looking a little concerned. "Are you okay, Rob?" she asked.

He winced a bit. Apparently he had not hidden his sudden foul mood as well as he had thought.

Rob tried to quickly clear his face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he responded. He saw Lenni raise an eyebrow at his answer, but thankfully, the brunette girl did not comment.

Tina was studying the both lists again. She then turned to Rob. "There's a whole lot more officer ranks here than enlisted ones," she commented. "Are there more ranks?"

"Yeah, for both E and O ranks." Rob filled out the general rest of the list for both, then leaned back again so that his friends could see.

Gaby raised an eyebrow as she turned from one list to the other. . "So a lot of the ranks on the list Ghostwriter sent are from higher ranks, then, since there's a lot more enlisted ones that aren't on the list. And the officers are also a higher type of rank than enlisted."

Rob nodded. Gaby had come to the same conclusion he had.

Alex looked impressed again. "Yeah, you're right," he said. His sister grinned at him.

Rob quickly switched the topic from military ranks. "So anyway, there's an asterisk by one of the names on the list with the military kids," he said, pointing it out.

"Theodore Ross," Lenni read aloud. "Or is it actually an asterisk for something about his father?"

"I think it's actually just might be about Theodore Ross," he responded, pointing the most previous message from Ghostwriter. "See? There he is again, and with another asterisk."

Tina nodded. "And the person who wrote the letter has to be the one who wrote the last message that Ghostwriter sent. There's the asterisk and Theodore Ross's name, father and daughter in both of them. Also, the person who wrote the letter said that they were going to send a letter to John, and the letter is addressed to someone named John."

"And the message also says that Theodore Ross's father was a Lieutenant Colonel when he retired. That is a rank _after_ Captain, which it says on the list," Gaby added, pointing to the list Rob had created.

Beside her, Lenni was nodding. "Also, the person who wrote the letter, Kendrick, said that they would have written that on the back of the papers, but there was wrapping paper on the back." She looked a little confused. "I guess?"

"Maybe he was joking?" Alex suggested. "He does that a lot, both in the letter, and the message."

"Yeah, about Mars," Gaby stated. She then shuddered. "And zombies."

Lenni pointed to another part of the message. "He wanted to send the letter to John," she pointed to another paragraph- "and since he couldn't write on back of the papers, he used another piece of paper to write the message. But somehow, all three papers weren't all together, since Ghostwriter sent the message later."

"It could be that John just threw it away," Jamal suggested, "since he didn't need it anymore."

"Yeah, since maybe he only wanted the letter and the list," Alex added.

Tina was frowning a little bit. "But why would he have sent someone the old list, anyway?"

Rob shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he was a military kid like me, and now he's looking for people that he's seen before?"

Lenni was looking him, interested. "Do you know John at all?" she asked. "Or maybe Kendrick, or his daughter Kendra?"

Rob shrugged. "I met a _lot_ of people, so I don't remember everyone I saw."

Gaby pointed to the message. "Well, John's looking for Theodore Ross, and he's in Manhattan," she stated. "And the deaf seminar is _also_ in Manhattan. That's pretty close. Maybe we could go find out where it is and go there?"

Alex folded his arms. "But for all we know, the seminar was over a week ago, when Ghostwriter sent Rob the list and the letter. And if it's not, how would we even know where it is, anyway? It could be anywhere in Manhattan."

Jamal had a thoughtful look on his face. "Ghostwriter had found the list and the other things from a hotel in Brooklyn in the first place," he stated.

"But if they were staying in a hotel, would they still be there, or even in Brooklyn?" Tina asked.

Alex shrugged. "We could ask Ghostwriter."

Gaby grinned. "All right," she said. She then added, "And since they're looking for Theodore Ross, but don't know of anyone else that is on the list, if we find either John or Kendrick, maybe they might want to talk to us since Rob's on the list, too. We could just somehow mention something about military stuff, and then about Rob and his father."

Rob cringed a little at Gaby's suggestion, wondering how in the world that would work out without just plain being awkward.

He then turned to a blank page in the notebook. "Okay, I'll ask Ghostwriter to find out what's near the list," he stated.

Rob quickly scrawled a message on the paper. A few seconds later, Ghostwriter appeared, circled the note, and flew through the closed window.

A few minutes later, he reappeared. A few phrases floated above the binder, and he quickly copied them down.

_Zeminar Street- also known the place of Jeremy Hatten's grand piano_  
_Retro Goods- Good As New!_  
_Yvette and Her Lavender Cat- Another Adventure in the Ice Forest_  
_Written and Illustrated by Allison Freeman_  
_The Manhattan Grand and Upright Pianos- Best Quality Anywhere!_

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So he's in Manhattan, then," he stated.

"I guess so," Lenni said, nodding.

Tina pointed to the third and fourth lines that Rob had copied down. "That's might be a book title and its author," she said. "Maybe it's a book that John got for Kendrick's daughter, Kendra."

"The girl in both the message and the letter," Gaby added. "Yeah." She then pointed to the first line. "We could even look up Jeremy Hatten, and maybe even find out where John is right now."

Alex raised an eyebrow at his sister. "It's way too late to go to Manhattan right now, Gaby," he pointed out. "And he might not even be in the same place tomorrow."

"He's right about that," Lenni agreed. Gaby huffed, but did not comment.

Tina was looking at the letter again. "Well, John and Kendrick are looking for the kids on the list, and they only know about Theodore Ross," she stated. "And they don't know about Rob."

"Yeah, maybe that John guy could even have passed Rob in the street somewhere," Alex suggested, laughing some. "And he had no idea who he was."

"That would have been really funny," Gaby stated, grinning.

Soon afterward, the team left Rob's house. He was a bit sad to see them go, even if they really did not figure out much about the weird case, if there really was anything to solve in the first place. At least he was feeling a whole lot better, anyway.


	5. Brownies, Ice and a Floured Padawan

Rob twirled the dial on the lock on his locker on his school. He then yanked open the lock and opened the metal door. After replacing his earlier period binders and notebooks with the ones for the rest of the day, he closed the locker and quickly snapped the lock attached shut.

"So have you found anything else about that weird list yet?" he heard Alex say quietly from behind him.

Rob turned around to see the Latino boy and shook his head. He had spent lunch time in the computer lab for the past several of days, since there had been a notice about it being unavailable after school for about a week. Plus, the team had also been busy with various things, including homework, so it made sense that Alex was asking him now.

"No, I haven't," he said, just at softly. "I even tried looking up that book that was mentioned. Nothing seems to fit anywhere. But last time I asked Ghostwriter, John's still in Manhattan, but I couldn't find out where. It was just a bunch of random street signs and stores."

Alex shrugged. "Tough luck, I guess," he responded. "Maybe Ghostwriter will find something, now that he knows where John is, and he can give us more clues."

Rob also shrugged. "Maybe." He then managed to shift his things to look at his watch on his right wrist. "I've got to get to Home Ec," he said.

"Yeah, me too," Alex agreed.

They walked together down the hallway, and then around a corner-

* * *

Rob was looking at a wall. It was painted light blue, with a painting of some baseball star thwacking what seemed like a homerun.

He turned around confused, and saw some unknown male grown-up looking at him. "Are you all right now?" they asked gently. He offered Rob a box of tissues.

Rob stared at the box, bewildered, until he felt something wet trailing down his cheek. He swiped at the spot, and realized that it was a tear.

Muttering a "Thanks", he took the box and wiped his face. Surprisingly, there was more than one wet spot, including his eyes.

. . . Had he actually been _crying_ about something?

That in itself was not as scary as the word _again_ resonated through his mind. Yet _again_ , he was suddenly somewhere else, and had no clue what had happened . . .

Rob looked around the small room, trying to seem like he knew why he was in the small room. It was thankfully not the nurses' office, but seemed to be some small study room with a desk, closet, and a few desks. For whatever reason, there was a counter in the back of the room, with a small sink and even a tiny fridge. He looked down and saw that he was sitting on a wooden chair, just like the one that the grown-up was sitting on near him.

Rob tried to hide his panic. Had he said something really weird, or even worse, something about Ghostwriter? He sure hoped not.

The grown-up spoke up again. "So, are you up to going back to class now, or would you want to stay here a while longer? Though if you do choose to leave now, I would recommend at least washing you face first."

Rob stared at him, confused. The grown-up pointed to a mirror above the sink. Rob stood, a little shakily, and went and looked in the mirror. With his splotched face, it definitely looked like that he had been crying, and pretty hard, at that. How embarrassing.

He quickly splashed some water on his face, and dried it with the roll of paper towels nearby. Another quick check in the mirror told that him that his face was still a tiny bit red, but not really noticeably so.

Rob checked his watch. It was about thirty minutes about after he had last checked it.

He realized that that that was about the same time frame when he had last had a- what? He winced. Another hallucination?

He then winced again as he remembered that Alex had been with him when it had started this time. Who knew what the Latino boy had thought. Maybe he was even waiting somewhere outside this room . . .

He looked around the room again, and spotted his school things he had been carrying on one of the desks. Rob quickly picked them up, and looked toward the teacher, who was writing a note on a pad.

"I'll just go back to class now," he announced.

The grown-up nodded, and tore the top piece of paper from the pad. "I wrote out a pass for your teacher, since you're late, if you want to take it," he said.

Rob nodded, and took the proffered note. "Uh, thanks," he said quickly.

The person nodded. "I'm always available if you want to talk about anything," he said.

"Er, I'm fine, thanks," Rob answered, hoping that his face had not become red again.

He quickly left the room to find himself in an upstairs hallway. Thankfully, neither Alex or anyone else that he knew was waiting nearby. Rob found the stairs, and ran down them, futilely trying to shove down his growing anxiety.

Why had this sort of thing happened again? Was he doomed to it just repeating itself, with something different occurring each time, at any time?

He thought of when he had found that he had apparently knocked everything off of his desk in his room, as well as his bruised knuckles, and had no idea how it had happened.

. . . Was he actually starting to go _crazy?_

* * *

Rob huffed as he quickly ran down the school's front steps, with his skateboard under his right arm. He still rather missed being in the computer lab after school, but a quick check had told him that it was still in use for something else currently.

He had just stepped onto his skateboard when he heard someone call his name.

"Hey, Rob!" he heard Lenni shout out.

Rob tried not to groan as he turned around to see not only the brunette girl, but also Alex hurrying toward him from the top of the steps. Jamal was also with them.

Lenni reached him first. "So do you want to go to Jamal's house later today with the team?" she asked. "We were going to be making some brownies, and watching a movie before the weekend starts."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, Gaby's been wanting to do that for forever, ever since she found a bunch of brownie recipes from some old cookbook." He then grinned a bit ruefully. "And a _lot_ of sprinkles."

Rob stifled a small grin at the thought of the Latino elementary schooler, armed with two large bottles of chocolate sprinkles in either arm, ready to dump them on an unsuspecting thief.

He shrugged. "I guess," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Surely nothing would happen so soon after a hallucination, or whatever they would be called.

"Great!" Lenni said, smiling cheerfully. "We were meeting after supper tonight, at seven. Is that fine with you?"

Rob shrugged again. "Sure."

He pushed off with his left foot, and took off. After a few seconds, there were running footsteps behind him.

"Hey, Rob!" Alex called out.

Rob slowed down, then stopped to see Alex looking a bit uncertainly at him. Rob cringed a bit, remembering that the Alex had been with him earlier just before . . . the "time skip" had happened.

The Latino boy reached him, and lowered his voice. "So, uh, are you okay and all?" he asked, looking a bit embarrassed. "With what happened earlier before Home Ec. You know."

Rob flushed. Lenni had wondered right after Home Ec had ended why he had been late to class. Fortunately, someone else had wanted her attention right after she had asked. Alex had just finished up a pop quiz, and he had escaped from the room before the Latino boy had had a chance to ask him anything.

But, that had been earlier, though. Alex was currently looking at him, both a bit uncomfortable and serious at the same time.

Rob shrugged in what he hoped was a non-committal manner. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine," he quickly said. He quickly pushed his foot against the ground again.

Alex caught up to him. "You sure?" he asked. "You were saying some pretty weird stuff."

Unfortunately, Jamal and Lenni had caught up to them. "Hey, so what's going on?" Jamal asked friendlily.

Rob flushed even harder, though he tried to stop it. He scowled a bit at the ground. "It's _nothing_ ," he stated firmly, glaring slightly at Alex.

Lenni was looking a little confused, while Jamal raised an eyebrow. Rob just huffed. He turned around, about to push off with his foot again-

* * *

Rob opened his eyes to see a spinning, small white room around him. His head was aching again. As he slowly moved his head from side to side, he saw two people, dressed in scrubs.

One of them looked reassuringly at him. "Just lay still," he said calmly.

Rob tried to keep his breathing steady as he realized that yet again, he was in an ambulance. He cringed slightly. Jamal, Alex and Lenni had been with him, and of course, right after Alex had been asking him about the hallucination earlier. Maybe he had told the others about that . . .

More frightening, though, was that he had collapsed again, with more vertigo, exhaustion and a painful headache. He closed his eyes, trying to not cry on purpose this time.

There was absolutely no way that this was just a common cold, or even the flu. What was _wrong?_

Within a few minutes, the ambulance came to the hospital. He was carefully lifted through an entrance of the tall, gray building and lifted onto a bed somewhere. Random people checked his pulse over and over ("Still extremely rapid") as well as other check-up things. They also asked him various questions, including if he felt any better or worse (nope to both), or if it had ever happened before . . .

Then surprisingly around twenty minutes later, he was sitting up the bed, feeling perfectly fine as a doctor checked his pulse yet again.

"Perfectly normal," the doctor announced, smiling a little.

Rob sighed a bit in relief. At least that was something else that was fine again.

There was a knock on the door, and the doctor let yet another person in scrubs inside, holding a clipboard. Rob recognized them from his last hospital visit.

The person, Dr. Raymond, smiled at him. "Robert Baker, Rob for short," he said, nodding. "You've been here a few times within the just past few weeks, correct?"

Rob nodded.

"All due to collapsing. The first time you had a high fever, and the time before this one last time you were conscious for the whole time, with the only common symptoms being dizziness, headache, and extreme exhaustion," he listed.

Rob nodded again. "Would you know what is going on?" he asked. "I mean, it keeps on happening."

The doctor shrugged ever so slightly. "Well, we can check you first for any basic symptoms."

He quickly checked Rob with the usual doctor routine, such as a checking his throat, ears, and chest.

Dr. Raymond was quickly finished. "Hmm, you still seem to be quite the mystery," he stated as he rolled up his stethoscope and put it on a nearby cart.

The doctor that is quite the mystery," he said. "Your symptoms- previous ones, as well as the current lack of them- don't match anything that we've seen. It's obviously not the flu, or an extended version of bronchitis or any sort of cold." He went on to list some other things that were also not the case, including things that Rob wondered what in the world they were.

Rob's heart sunk a little. "But _something's_ wrong," he said.

Dr. Raymond nodded. "Obviously it's something that we've missed. Perhaps now it would be a time to see a specialist. In what, I am not completely sure. There could even be abnormalities within your brain that could be causing this, though not necessarily."

Rob flinched, thinking of the hallucinations. _Those_ might have to do with brain problems of some sort, of course . . .

There was another knock on the door. The other doctor opened the door, and Rob cringed a little as he saw his father. Obviously, he had just come from an unscheduled time off work. Why could not his mother at least have come first?

Thankfully, his father did not practically shout at the doctors, and just talked with them while Rob gloomily listened. His mother joined them a few minutes later. Within about an hour- including waiting around in the small room while Dr. Raymond went off to make a few phone calls, and getting some blood drawn- an appointment was scheduled for him to see a specialist in two weeks.

Rob huffed as he slogged toward his mother's car, carrying his skateboard. "I don't have to stay home from school again, do I?" he asked sullenly as he carefully put his skateboard on the floor of the passenger seat.

His mother sighed. "No, I don't want you missing too much school," she replied. "But it would be nice if we could just figure out what is going on here."

Rob shrugged as he placed his backpack down next to his skateboard, and plunked onto the cushioned seat of the car. After fastening his seatbelt, he spotted his father's car already moving out of the parking lot. The car he was in soon followed. Indeed, it would be nice if _someone_ figured out what was happening, though he sure hoped that any effects of that would not be bad at all.

* * *

Rob waved to Mrs. Fellowby, an elderly woman who lived near his house with her two young granddaughters, before ringing Jamal's doorbell. His father had insisted that he not go alone to his friend's house, even though it was only one block away.

Fortunately, his mother had spotted the elderly woman on yet another neighborhood walk, merrily pushing a stroller. He had felt a little silly while trailing behind them slowly on his skateboard while the older girl waved at him with a rattling toy cat in each hand.

He looked at Jamal's door, feeling a little apprehensive as some running footsteps came to the door.

The door then opened. Rob saw Jamal's face, looking first surprised, then glad. "Hey, Rob," he welcomed him, letting him through the doorway. "Glad you're feeling better."

"Rob!"

He saw Gaby jump from the couch. Lenni and Alex were close behind her, and talking at the same time.

"Whoa, you're okay!" Alex exclaimed.

"What happened?" Lenni asked anxiously.

Gaby's eyes were wide as she looked at him. "Alex was telling me that you fainted after school and went in another _ambulance_ ," she stated. She then frowned. "How are you better so fast this time, anyway? Last time, you stayed at your house for a whole day."

Rob shrugged as he went and sat on the couch. "I don't know, actually."

Gaby and Alex sat on both of the chairs, while Jamal plopped down on the couch near Rob. Lenni was looking concerned as she sat near his other side.

"You don't know?" she asked.

Rob shrugged again. "Yeah," he responded. He sighed. "I've actually got an appointment with a specialist in two weeks, though."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Hey, that sounds like when Gaby got sick," he said, glancing at his younger sister. "Nobody knew what was wrong there, either. Then we found out that it was the tetrachloroethylene that that dumb guy had dumped in the community garden."

The doorbell then rang, and Jamal jumped up to let Tina in. She was also surprised when she saw Rob, then sat down near Gaby.

After a brief explanation of what they had said before Tina came, Alex continued where he left off. "So maybe it's something like that perc stuff, except that it's from somewhere else," he said.

Tina frowned. "But that time, there were a whole lot of people getting sick," she pointed out. "This time, it's just Rob."

"You got a point there," Jamal said.

"Unless Rob's been someplace that no one else had been," Alex stated.

Gaby was looking interested. "Have you?" she asked, looking intently at him.

Rob rolled his eyes. "No," he answered firmly, yet feeling embarrassed. Why could the team not just talk about something else besides him and feeling ill?

"Yeah, I don't think that being in the school computer lab a lot really counts," Jamal said, chuckling a little bit.

Alex scowled a bit. "Duh. Practically the whole school's been in there."

Thankfully, Lenni then reminded the team that they were going to make brownies. About half an hour later, Rob was helping to clean up one of the chocolate explosions from the counter tops. Several different pans of the dessert were in the oven, with various amounts of colored sprinkles covering the frosting.

Jamal then put the movie _Home Alone_ in the VCR after that. They were all pretty soon eating brownies, and laughing at the various mishaps of the two bumbling thieves against clever eight-year-old Kevin. Gaby and Tina shrieked with laughter when they were whopped by the paint cans on the stairway.

Soon afterward, Jamal hit the rewind button. The team went into the kitchen with their dishes.

"There's no way that I would fall for something like fan blowing feathers onto _me_ ," Gaby declared, stashing her plate to the dishwasher beside Lenni's. "I would see it right away. It's just too obvious."

"How about trying to walk on ice?" Jamal asked, grinning. "It's pretty slippery."

The dark-skinned boy then pretended to slide around on the kitchen floor, making comical poses as he did so. He then ended the theatrics by making a dramatic scared faced as he pretended to slip and fall on the floor. The team laughed again as Jamal sat up, grinning.

At that moment, his grandmother came in the doorway. "Well, Jamal Jenkins," she said, eyeing him comically, "I hope that you didn't slip on some chocolate that you missed cleaning up from your big party."

Jamal shrugged and stood up. "No, it was just some ice," he said, still grinning.

"Like an ice skating rink," Gaby helpfully added.

Grandmother Jenkins raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Ice, huh?" she asked. "It must be nice, having an iced floor in your kitchen when it's like summer outside. Maybe you could twirl like those little skating girls on television." She then raised her arms above her head and did a little spin, then looked at Jamal again. "Just don't you or anyone else fall on it too much, all right?"

Jamal shrugged again. "No, Grandma, I won't," he said.

His grandmother nodded. "Well, that's good, then," she replied. She left the room as the others burst into laughter again.

"Has your grandmother ever been ice skating?" Gaby asked, interested.

"I don't know," Jamal replied. "Maybe she can really skate, after all."

Lenni made an embarrassed face. "That's better than me," she said. "I can barely get around the rink."

"Yeah, me too," Alex admitted.

Jamal and Lenni soon cut up the extra brownies, and they each got a plate to take home with them. Tina commented that her little sister would love that they were practically rainbows, leaving Gaby grinning as she packed her various sprinkles in the bag that she had brought them in.

She, Alex and Tina all soon said good-bye and left. Rob stared the door after it closed, feeling quite embarrassed as he held his skateboard and a plate of brownies.

"Hey, do you need something?" Jamal asked, coming beside him.

Rob sighed. "Well, my dad actually didn't want me walking back to my house by myself, even though it _is_ only one block," he explained sullenly.

"Wow, that is pretty harsh," Jamal said, raising an eyebrow.

Rob slumped a bit before the dark-skinned boy spoke up again. "But there's not to say that I can't come with you. It's really not _that_ far, after all."

Rob grinned some at his friend. "Hey, thanks," he said as they started toward the front door.

Jamal suddenly stopped before stepping on the porch. Rob was confused as his friend studied the concrete in front of him with a concentrated look on his face, one hand on his chin.

"What are you doing?" he asked skeptically.

Jamal then grinned. "No ice, so I think it's safe to cross," he stated.

Rob rolled his eyes at the dark-skinned boy's antics, but could not help but let out a laugh. "Thanks for the report."

"You're very welcome."

They made their way to his house without any incidents. Rob waved to Jamal behind him before closing the door, and walked inside to see his mother smiling at him from the couch. The television was on, flickering ever so slightly on some paused video.

"It looks like you brought back plenty of leftovers," she said, eyeing the plate of brownies. "Did you have a good time?"

Rob shrugged. "Yeah," he responded

He heard the phone being hung up in the kitchen. Rob looked up to see his father walk through the doorway to the entryway.

"So, how are you feeling?" he asked.

Rob resisted rolling his eyes. "Fine," he shrugged.

His father saw eyed the dessert he was holding. "I see that you brought some extra dessert," he said. He raised an eyebrow. "They're quite . . . colorful."

Rob shrugged. "Yeah, Gaby had a lot of sprinkles."

"Make sure you put them in a container so they don't dry out," his father stated firmly.

"Yes, sir," Rob replied, before going past him into the kitchen.

He heard the video in the living room start up again as he put away the brownies, then went into his room to write.

* * *

That night, Rob had a fairly strange dream where he, the team and Jason were walking around on what looked like some version of Candy Land. Instead of earth, though, the ground looked like the top of brownies, covered with random colored sprinkles and various kinds of cookies and other desserts.

Jason was holding a cup of blue Oreos and ice cream in his right hand. With his other hand, he then pointed out three other people, two male grown-ups and a little girl with, all moon walking around a couple of large purple cupcakes. Somehow, Rob knew that they were John, Kendrick and his daughter Kendra from the messages that Ghostwriter sent them.

"Isn't it neat?" Jason asked, putting his cup down on a large red and white striped peppermint so that he could use his hands. "She knows sign language."

Rob nodded, watching Kendra laugh as her father twirled her around. He then put her down, and then presented the small girl with small red-eyed bat with large fangs, while John smiled and shrugged, shaking his head.

Kendra shrieked in glee as the bat hissed, breathing purple smoke. The girl then neatly coaxed it into a small container with other bats. Kendrick pulled a giant magnifying glass from somewhere and was studying the container thoughtfully.

"I think that these creatures from Jupiter are quite nice," he stated, grinning.

Rob turned around to the team again. Gaby and Tina were suddenly wearing military uniforms, and the latter hoisted a burlap sack over her shoulder.

"Where are you two going?" he asked her.

Gaby nodded at the large bag. "I have explosive sprinkles that will help Kendrick eliminate the zombies," she said. "They're after the military children on the list that Ghostwriter found."

"Zombies?"

It sounded pretty neat, except that suddenly the sky suddenly ominously turned darker. The area around him had changed into a rocky, moon-like surface, with the unnerving, glowing crimson cracks on a volcano in the distance. The wind blew eerily, and he suddenly he saw a creature with withered skin and a fluttering black cloak float emerge from the shadows.

Gaby leaped forward, jumping ten feet in the air, now holding a large pistol in on hand. She aimed and fired at the zombie. A huge colored ball came out, and the creature exploded into dust.

"Nice hit!" Jamal cheered. Beside Rob, Jason pumped a fist in the air.

Rob wanted to fight the zombies, too. He looked around for a gun like Gaby's, but was distracted by black script writing in the air.

_J-C 32  
_ _The wings haven't crashed. On with the maze._

Rob was confused at Ghostwriter's message. He spotted Jamal and Alex kneeling on the ground nearby, looking intently at a large map.

"We have to figure out which tunnel the planes are coming through," Jamal stated calmly. Alex nodded and traced a finger on a blue line on the map.

Rob turned around to see more zombies coming toward them, and ducked as one fired a laser beam his direction. Tina took out another creature with a ray gun.

He then gasped as he spotted an air field in the far distance, near the volcano. A plane, its right wing disintegrating, slammed into the ground. Another zombie fired another laser beam, and Rob tried to jump away as rock nearby exploded into large bits. A small stray chunk clonked him hard just above his right ear. He groaned as he fell onto his knees, holding his aching head.

Rob tried to get up, but couldn't with the world spinning around him . . .

He opened his eyes to see his bedroom walls whirling around him in the dimness. Rob gasped at an utterly throbbing headache. Still feeling a little dazed from the dream, he tried to turn around onto his stomach, then tried to fight down some growing panic as he realized that he could not.

He was definitely not dreaming. The stupid symptoms were back again, and he could not even move to tell his parents. Then again, maybe he really did not want to tell them anyway. He had had enough of hospitals lately, and his parents being worried about him. Maybe the symptoms would go away, just like they had before . . .

Rob as he shut his eyes tight in a futile attempt to ease both the dizziness and the headache. Maybe he could try to ride out the pain and fear, though he was not sure how long he could without practically going crazy. Unlike the hospital, there was no one and nothing else nearby that might even have a possibly of helping him in any way if he needed it. He tried to keep his breathing steady as he clenched his sheets against the piercing, constant ache in his head. Hopefully it would end again at some point . . .

After what seemed like forever, he suddenly realized that the pain was beginning to subside. Rob lay on his side a while, feeling quite limp and sweaty. He opened his eyes only to shut them again at some vertigo, and reclenched his sheets.

Only after his headache was completely gone did he dare to open his eyes. Rob sighed in relief as the dim walls bedroom stayed put. He found that he could move again, and he shakily sat up, glad that he could do so, and glanced at his alarm clock across the room.

One forty-two.

It was in the middle of the night. Rob stayed sitting up, somehow scared that if he laid down again, the symptoms, including the horrible headache, would come back in full force, or even worse.

He rubbed his tired eyes. He sort of felt awake enough to read, but did not really want to turn on a lamp in the chance that his parents find out that he was up. He could just copy the old trick that he and Jason had used a lot and stuff a thick blanket from the closet in front of the door, but somehow, he did not want to do that either, currently.

Eventually, Rob lay down again, but kept his eyes open wide to not purposely not fall asleep. There was no way that he would . . .

* * *

Someone was knocking on his bedroom door. Rob cracked open his eyes at the sound to see his bedroom, somewhat lit from the light outside the window.

He realized that it was Saturday, and so he had not turned on his alarm. Also, unlike his father, his mother usually did not work on Saturdays, so she at least would not be taking yet another day of work to watch him. Not that he needed it, anyway. Also, finally, he could ride his skateboard again to a place that was not school again.

"Rob, are you awake?" he heard his mother ask.

"Yeah," he called out, sitting up.

His bedroom door opened, and his mother came inside his room, fully dressed. "How are you feeling this morning?" she asked him.

Rob tried not to sigh at the annoyingly familiar question. "Fine," he responded automatically, yawning some.

His mother frowned as she looked at him, then smiled. "I suppose you're just not fully awake yet," she stated. "Any headache, or anything?"

"No," he grumbled.

What he did want was to get some more sleep. Then again, his mother just might think he was still sick (. . . but maybe he was anyway, with all of the collapsing and weird time skip hallucination things?), and he did not want to spend the whole day with her checking on him again.

Rob saw his mother nod. "I'll be fixing breakfast," she said. "Does blueberry muffins and sausage sound good?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

His mother finally left the room. Rob sighed, and got out of bed before throwing hastily throwing the covers into place.

Outside his window, some little kids were laughing in the distance. He then looked around his somewhat bright room, rubbing his eyes slightly. Had he really felt bad at all last night? Maybe it all had been a dream this time, like the weird part about guns and zombies, of all things.

Rob yawned again as he got dressed. He sure hoped it was just a dream.

* * *

Rob zoomed down the sidewalk toward his house. He had just come from the community center after attending another poetry reading. Like all of the other ones that he had been to, it had just been awesome.

He stopped right in front of the single step in front of the porch and picked up his skateboard. Maybe Double T, the no-longer-homeless poet he had met a while ago, would be able to read some of his poems there again at some point.

He heard the mail truck behind him just before he closed the door. Apparently, so did his mother, who was currently reading a book on the couch.

"Rob, would you get the mail please?" she asked.

Rob shrugged. "Fine."

It was great to do be able to do things when he was at least not (feeling . . .) sick, anyway. Putting down his skateboard by the back of the couch, he rushed out the front door. After closing the mail box, he went back inside and dumped the mail, including a small box, into the kitchen counter.

He put his skateboard away before sifting curiously through the mail. Near the bottom, he found a letter from Jason.

Rob grinned. He wondered what trouble his older brother's little "Padawan" had gotten into recently.

He went to his room and sat on his desk chair. After quickly tearing the top off the envelope, he retrieved the letter and began to read.

_Hey, little brother!_

_I look forward to visiting you in a month and a half._ _Maybe I'll just be confused at first, wondering why I don't see any airmen marching around._ _I wonder how much Brooklyn is like Washington D.C., though?_ _Besides no White House, obviously._ _And of course, I'll be checking my suitcase for stowaways._ _Poor Jiyo's not going to be able to visit his own family for three more months._ _I remember how that felt when I first got here, and even still sometimes._ _It was worse than even Dad's deployments._

_It's still so great that you have friends in Brooklyn._ _They sound really neat._ _That part you mentioned about you and Jamal accidently boarding the wrong bus and winding up in Manhattan sounded like a pretty crazy adventure._ _Did Jamal ever find his backpack, or did he have to get a new one?_ _Have you seen Double T (seriously, cool name) since he moved to an apartment?_

_As usual, things are definitely not dull around here with my younger mischievous partner._ _Sometimes I wonder if he does things on purpose._ _The thing is, he looks so confused after something happens that I just shake my head and grin._ _Would you believe that he actually somehow found a whole bunch of flour bags on a hidden closet shelf in the library?_ _I would guess that someone had put them there a long time ago, since the faded date (written in roman numerals) said 1954._ _Quite a while ago._

_So anyway, as you might guess, he tried to pull them out._ _Trouble is, one corner was stuck on the side of a wooden beam that had part way come out._ _I was asking the librarian about some books that had been checked out just then, and I turn around to see him yanking at these weird large bags in the closet._ _I ran to him to try to help him (plus, you never know when something like that might actually be interesting)._ _The librarian came over to see what was up._ _And of course, right at that time, I spotted some higher position hearing official- I have no idea where from, really, but they were wearing some big, important-looking badge- walking about two feet from us, and there Jiyo is, still pulling on the bags. Too late, I see that the seams are coming undone._ _I'm sure you can guess what happened then._

_Yeah._ _Instant flour bomb._ _Plus, add a bunch of little black bugs to that, and that adds to people being really freaked out._

_I guess that the hearing official was screaming their head off (what does that mean, exactly?_ _Is it a different type of yell?) as they were flapping their arms like crazy, trying to get the little bugs off._ _Meanwhile, I was trying to calm Jiyo down while trying to ignore the ones crawling all over me- on my head, inside my shirt, you name it._ _Not the greatest feeling, really._ _I definitely don't recommend it._ _I hope we didn't scare the hearing official off for good (maybe this one might have actually been totally unbiased against the deaf this time), but I guess that getting floured and bugged doesn't really make a great impression._

_. . . And that was just a little part of one day._ _I kind of never want to look at ketchup again (scrubbing it off of the ceiling of my dorm room for hours gets tiring after a while._ _That is if you don't include the young Padawan somehow breaking four ladders, all within one hour._ _Yeah._ _Ow._ _Really, the maintenance guys need to look at those things.)_ _Plus, he_ actually found another secret passage _behind the old janitor's closet near the kitchen. Too bad someone caught us looking in there._ _Now I just hope that someone hasn't boarded it up._ _I really want to explore it soon (with plenty of extra batteries, of course.)_

_Several times I know we've been getting followed both in and out of the school._ _There have been random faces looking in through windows, through pipes (those big ones near the side of the school), and other places._ _Someone even took our picture once._ _Then when I, Jiyo, or Justin and his little buddy Darren go to take a look, they just vanish._ _I guess that some people are just curious what trouble Jiyo will get into next._ _The problem is that those types of alarms have not been invented yet, and even more years until they're either the flashing light or buzz type._ _Alas._

_So, anyway, you asked about that other secret passage near the little bridge by the pond._ _The problem is that I haven't had a chance to look at it yet due to 1.)Rain_ _2.)Multiple tornado warnings_ _3.)_ _Getting stuck for six hours in a bunch of purple oobleck in the basement._ _Seriously._ _That's exactly what it looked like._ _And it was just me this time._ _Sometimes I think that this school is practically a mythical maze of crazy things to discover, one right after another._ _Now just to find a light saber._ _And Jedi._ _Oh, Obi-wan . . ._

_So yeah, I plan on looking at that passage soon, though._ _I won't forget._ _Maybe we'll actually find a map for it hidden in a third attic?_

_In other news, I got a solid one hundred on that huge Science test I told you about._ _Yeah!_ _The last two pages were actually completely blank, when the teacher had really said that there would be one-hundred questions._ _So I'm flipping back and forth from question eighty-seven and the invisible ones, when the lights go off._ _Then suddenly, someone came running in the classroom with a flashlight and the rest of the test._ _Really._ _The teacher was very confused until we told him that the last of the questions that vanished._ _Fortunately, the lights came on after that so I didn't have to finish the test after class at some point._

_So anyway, write back soon, and as always, you can send me anything you write (hint- the continuation of the story you sent me for my birthday last year about the Jedi who got teleported back in time)._

_From,  
_ _Jason_

Rob laughed at "Padawan" Jiyo's huge knack for trouble striking again. At least Jedi Master Jason was not hurt from anything, including the broken ladders. His brother very much liked _Star Wars_ , and both of them had been played being Jedi Masters went they were younger. The part with the Dr. Seuss reference was also interesting. What could have made the oobleck, anyway?

He then sighed as he reread the letter. It still sounded like his older brother did not mind being at his school, except two sentences in the first paragraph . . .

Rob knew that just since Jason still sometime missing being at home did not _actually_ mean that he wanted to come back permanently. Maybe that was a dumb thing to even think about. Part of him did not want accept that, though.

He _missed_ Jason. He was his first friend, his _brother_ . . .

But Jason was deaf.

He thought of the various air force bases where several people, grown-ups included, had shown some sort of prejudice against him for his disability. In Brooklyn, there would not even be the random sentries that would notice any trouble, nor the annoying, yet ever so slight safety net of being a colonel's kid.

Rob got out blank piece of paper and started to write a response to Jason's letter. He had pretty much decided to not mention anything about him being sick, or otherwise. Maybe he would even be cured by the specialist he would see later, and his brother would never know be the wiser. Then he could spend time with Jason without even worrying about collapsing, or anything else.


	6. Spinning on Circles on Mars

 

Rob stared in frustration at the torrential rain pounding his bedroom window. A fork of yellow lightning struck down in the dark sky, soon followed by a large clap of thunder. He sighed and let go of the blinds that he had been holding open.

So much for the team going to the new park today.

Tina had been asked by her mother to take her little sister Linda to the playground, named Fort Night Cat, of all things. According to Tina, the four-year-old Vietnamese girl had been asking to see the new park ever since she had heard of it in a sort pre-school class she attended three times a week. Somehow, the whole team had been invited. Alex had been talking about bringing several basketballs for the outside court, and Gaby and Jamal had seemed really interested in that.

He had been lucky that his father had agreed to let him go after yet another stupid collapsing while walking with Jamal to school yesterday. The things had been the same- waking up in another ambulance and feeling really horrible, and then spending yet another day home from school with no apparent symptoms at all.

Rob had been looking forward to being with his friends again in something that was completely unassociated with them asking him how he felt. He sighed as another clap of thunder sounded from outside. Unfortunately, the outing would have to be done another day, though.

He huffed and went over to one of the shelves of books near his bed. Picking out _The Black Stallion_ , he opened it and began to read.

Sometime later, there was a knock on the door. His mother came in, wearing an apron.

"Rob, could you help with supper?" she asked.

Rob nodded and put the book on the small end table next to his bed, noting the page number that he was on. He got off the bed and followed his mother to the kitchen. A pan of water was heating on the stove, as well as various cut up vegetables and slabs of round steak on the counter.

"Rob, could you start the cheese sauce?" his mother asked.

Rob nodded, and got out milk and two types of cheese from the fridge, then flour from the pantry. Taking a pan out of one of the lower cupboards, he poured some milk and flour into a small sauce pan and mixed them together. He then cut up some of both types of cheese and after added those to the milk, began stirring them with a small wire whisk.

Meanwhile, his mother had added the vegetables to the water on the stove and covered them with a lid. She was currently pounding round steak with the spiked side of the metal "hammer". He knew that it was probably not called that, but it seemed to fit with the relentless hammering behind him.

Rob doggedly kept on stirring while his mother floured the pieces of steak and began to fry them in a large pan on the unit beside him.

His mother put the lid on the frying pan. After cleaning the cutting board in the sink, she turned to Rob.

"Have you had any other symptoms lately?" she asked. "A headache, some pain somewhere else, or just anything unusual?"

Rob nearly groaned. Why could his mother not talk about something else, even something boring such as files from her work?

He sighed. "No," he replied, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

His mother folded her arms. "I'm not asking it to bother you," she stated softly. "I'm just hoping to find something else- anything, really- that might help with what is going on."

Rob shrugged, inwardly flinching some. She did not know of the "time skip" things . . .

The cheese sauce finally began to thicken some more. After a little while, he knew that it was thick enough and lifted the pan to an unused unit. Beside him, his mother was now turning over the steaks in the pan, the top sides now a golden brown.

"Could you set the table now?" she asked before setting the lid back on the pan again.

Rob nodded mutely. He got out the place mats out of their container in a nearby cupboard, then set them on the rounded table. As usual, he wished that he was putting out four instead of three. He frowned a bit as he headed for the cupboard again to retrieve the same amount of plates-

* * *

Rob opened his eyes to see the lower part of the fridge. Blinking slightly in confusion, he realized he was also kneeling down, both of his knees on the ground, his hands beside his legs. Something gentle, yet firm was on his right shoulder.

He looked around to see that it was his mother's hand. Briefly, he looked up to see his mother's concerned face looking at him.

"Rob, are you all right?" she asked.

Rob involuntarily blanched in horror as he realized what had occurred. Another time skip . . . and this time, his mother had been with him. He was not sure if he could convince her that he was fine. He was not even sure himself.

Rob tried to set his face in a neutral position. "Yeah," he replied.

His mother took her hand from his shoulder. Rob stood up, still attempting to seem nonchalant.

He suddenly smelled the foul smell of something having burned. Quizzically, he turned to the pan where the round steak was. It had been taken off the unit, but the meat was obviously at least partially blackened inside. Apparently his mother had been paying more attention to him instead of the stove.

Rob frowned, futilely attempting to quell his panic. At least he had finished the cheese sauce before the "time skip" . . .

His mother turned to him again, her face a mixture of emotions. "What did you mean, about your friends being trapped in school?" she finally asked. "Was it something that had happened today?"

Rob stared back, baffled. "What?" he asked. He then cringed, instantly realizing his mistake.

He saw his mother's face turn even more concerned. "Rob, do you remember what just happened?"

Rob blanched as he heard the slight panic in her voice. He stood there, wondering how to respond. Of course if his mother asked for more confirmation of what had occurred, he would not be able to give a correct response. He then turned to the fridge so that he would not have to look at his mother's worried face.

"Rob," his mother said urgently. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook it slightly.

Rob huffed, trying to fight some stupid urge to suddenly cry. That would definitely not help the situation.

"No," he mumbled, still staring at the fridge again.

He heard his mother speak up again. "Do you mean, no, you don't remember?" she asked for confirmation.

Rob swallowed hard before turning back around. "Yeah, I don't remember," he stated irritably, scowling slightly in an attempt to hide his panic. This was _actually_ happening . . .

His mother sighed. "Did anything actually happen at school today, like anyone being trapped in classroom, or anywhere else, or anything unusual?" she asked.

Rob blanched. "No," he finally responded. Somehow he did not think that his Science teacher accidently dropping the chalk several different times and then actually tripping over it would count for this.

His mother nodded slowly, seeming to be fighting tears, like he had for a bit, of all things. "Did anything like this ever happen before?" she asked gently.

Rob's shoulders slumped. Of _course_ his mother had to ask that. It did make sense that she did, though. Now his mother, and of course his father later, would know about him quite possibly going _insane_ , of all things. What would be done about that sort of condition, though?

Would he be sent away from home? Then again, maybe something would actually help . . . or could it? The doctors had all been confused.

He winced as he suddenly thought of him in some room with needles attached to him in arms, barely even recalling much of anything as he mother said to him that the medicine was for his own good so that he would not even become dangerous, and Jamal and the rest of the team coming to him, repeatedly asking him if he remembered them even as he did not even know that they were calling his name . . .

"Yeah," he mumbled, attempting to shove the thoughts out of his mind.

His mother's face was slightly wan. "How many times?" she asked. "Do you know?"

Rob shrugged ever so slightly, and sighed. "At least two," he responded.

He blanched some as he remembered Alex, worried as he asked about what in the world had happened as they were going to Home Ec. The Latino boy had said that he had been saying some weird things . . . and there was also the time in his room where he had been apparently hitting a wall of his room . . .

He suddenly remembered that there was actually a third time, after he had come home from making cupcakes in Lenni's house. He had gone from standing to suddenly being on the floor, just like this time, except it had been sitting instead of kneeling.

His mother spoke up again, making the nightmare continue. "Do you know when?" she asked.

Rob sighed. "The first about a couple of weeks ago, then another one maybe a few days after that, and then another one last week," he responded sullenly.

He saw his mother nod a bit again, still looking concerned. "All right," she said. "Do you have a headache, or are you tired, or anything else like that?"

Rob shook his head, not wanting to speak.

He suddenly noticed that there was steam coming from the corner of his vision. He turned to the stove and saw that the pan with the vegetables was still on the unit. If the time frame had been the same as his other time skips- he blanched a bit as he suddenly realized that he did not actually know how long the first one had lasted- then they were possibly overdone by now.

Rob then frowned. Why was he thinking about _vegetables_ at a time like this?

His mother spoke up again. "I'll have to talk to your father about this after he comes home," she said softly. "There's apparently been more going on here than we knew about before."

Her eyes were gentle as she continued to speak. "Do you want to sit down while I finish supper?" she asked.

Rob quickly shook his head. Even though his mother knew about the time skips, he was still not an invalid. "No, I'll finish setting the table," he replied.

His mother nodded as he went to the cupboard and grabbed three plates. He heard his mother lift the lid of the round steak pan behind him as he headed to the table. He was kind of glad now that he only needed three plates after all.

Rob shut his eyes tight for a few seconds. _Would_ his problem, whatever it was, be cleared up before Jason came to visit? He was not even sure. What would Jason think of having younger brother that was possibly insane, as well as partially invalid, with all of the stupid collaspings?

He huffed as he headed back to the cupboard for the cups. Jason was deaf, and he did not care . . . but this was way different. What if he even started trying to attack his brother at some point? He supposed a bit of solace was that Jason was older, and therefore stronger. Maybe Jason would not even trust him much anymore . . .

Rob winced as he snatched the needed utensils out of a drawer. Behind him, his mother had gotten a small cutting board and was cutting off the rather burnt part of the pieces of round steak with a serrated knife. He stared, watching, then went back toward the table to set the silverware. Maybe other things that chanced to happen during time skips would be a whole lot worse than partially burnt steak. He had noticed that she had turned off the unit and moved the pan that had the vegetables in it.

Rob finished setting the spoons, and then started a bit as his mother called to him. "Rob, I'm going to need to reflour and fry the bottom of the round steak again, so it will take a bit longer," she said.

He nodded. His mother continued.

"You can go back to your room to wait until supper's ready," she suggested.

Rob nodded again. "Fine," he responded.

He strode toward his room, still almost in shock as he sat on his bed next to the book he had been reading earlier. There was no way he really wanted to read it currently, though.

Some letters flew up from within the novel's pages to form a small question.

_What's wrong?_

Rob winced a bit. Ghostwriter could of course read the emotions of the people on the team. He had no idea what the ghost would think about this, though . . .

There was no way he did not _want_ to answer, though. Ghostwriter was not his mother, and _definitely_ not his father. He was a friend that did not discriminate at all, and was a good listener. The ghost was also evidently worried about him. He should at least respond with something.

Rob sighed as he went to his desk and sat down. He pulled out an empty piece of paper from the bottom drawer and uncapped his pen from the cord around his neck.

_I've been having weird problems lately,_ he wrote.

Familiar colored sparks circled his answer, then created another question on the page, obviously using some other letters from somewhere else around the room.

_What kind of problems?_

Rob stared at the paper. There was no diagnosis . . . yet? Hopefully there would be, even if it did not help anything at all. He really did not want to have an unknown, nameless condition that no one knew anything about.

He finally put his pen to the paper again, and responded. _Well, I keep on fainting over and over, even though one time I was down again, but was awake. It was crazy; that time I could hear things, and see things, but I couldn't really move._ _I didn't know if I would ever even be able to again._ _And then later, I could again._ _I don't even know what will happen if that sort of thing happens again._

Rob sighed again, and continued to write, attempting to not think of his mother's worried face. _Then today, my mom found out about something else that has been happening. Well, it only happened four times, including one just a while ago, but I don't know what's going on with those, either._ _I just have had these weird_ \- Rob cringed a bit, then forced himself to write the next word- _hallucinations where I am doing something, and then suddenly I'm either somewhere else, or in a different position, and I don't even remember it happening._

Rob frowned, trying to quell his growing panic and wrote even faster. _Alex was even with me one time when I had one of those. One minute I was walking with him to class, and then the next I was in a classroom with some person that I hadn't seen before, and had been crying for whatever reason. He_ _said after school that I had said some weird things._ _I hope they weren't too weird, like I was insane or anything._ _Maybe he forgot about it since I happened to collapse again soon after that._

He clenched his pen slightly before writing again. _What if I am really going insane? I don't want to be. I_ _just don't know what's going on, and none of the doctors have found out either._ _I'm supposed to go to a specialist in about a week, but what if no one ever finds out what's going on?_

Rob stared at the words, wondering how the friendly ghost would respond.

Ghostwriter circled his long answer. The ghost then hovered by the words, as if wondering how to reply. Some of the words finally rearranged themselves.

_That is very scary. However, I can definitely tell that you are not insane right now, though._

Rob quickly responded. _But what if I do go insane?_

Another message quickly came from Ghostwriter. _You said that you are going to see a specialist in a week. They might be able to discover something that regular doctors would miss._

_But what if there isn't a cure?_ Rob replied, once again fighting back panic.

Ghostwriter quickly created another message, the letters flying together in his haste to reply. _You don't know what will happen yet. Thinking positively can help conquer fear._

Rob frowned. _I don't know,_ he wrote.

_You can try,_ Ghostwriter responded. _Also, the team and I are always there for you._

Rob read, then reread the ghost's answer. He sighed, slightly in relief. Though he was still rather uncertain about the whole weird situation, maybe Ghostwriter was correct after all. He really did not know much of anything yet.

. . . Although he was rather unsure about telling the rest of the team. Maybe he would be cured by the specialist, or even one after that, if needed, and the team would never even need to know what else had been wrong with him.

_Thanks,_ he responded.

Ghostwriter made more letters come into the air above the piece of paper. _Friends can help bring hope in the darkness._

Rob nodded, grateful that Ghostwriter was his friend. He then he cringed some, since he had decided not to tell his other friends about the time skips . . . including Jason. He sure hoped all of that would work out somehow.

Suddenly, he heard a car down slam outside. Rob winced and peeked behind the window blinds. Sure enough, his father had just come home and was walking toward the front door.

He slumped back onto his desk chair. Hopefully his father would not demand that he see a specialist today or stay in the hospital until going to one, or anything like that.

* * *

"So how many hoops did Dennis make during the practice session yesterday?" Jamal asked Alex, who was walking beside him in the cafeteria, carrying a lunch tray.

Rob plodded along behind them, pretending that he really wanted nothing more than lunch at the moment.

The Latino boy answered Jamal's question as they sat down at their usual table in the middle of the room. "Fifty-two," he responded excitedly. "And all of them were in a row from about fifteen feet away. Isn't that crazy?"

Jamal was looking impressed. "Wow, he's really good," the dark-skinned boy responded as he took out a container out of a paper bag.

Alex nodded, holding a cheese quesadilla in one hand. "Yeah, and he did that even when some others were trying to steal the ball from him half the time."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Jamal said, taking a bite from some chicken salad.

Rob had half-heartedly eaten some of a sandwich while watching his two friends change topics to Hurston's next basketball game, when Lenni suddenly came up to the table.

"Hi," she greeted them as she took a seat beside Alex.

The Latino raised an eyebrow as he held his second quesadilla. "Where have you been?" he asked. "It's half-way through lunch."

Lenni opened up her own paper bag to take out a container of what looked like tortellini with peas and bacon. "We had to stay a bit later today, since someone hadn't printed out the test yet," she replied, taking a large bite of her food.

Alex smirked. "So you were taking a Health test during lunch, then," he said.

"Well, it wasn't all of the lunch," the brunette girl replied. "If it would've been that, then the test would be rescheduled for tomorrow."

Jamal nodded. "Then it's good that you took it today, then."

"Yeah, I sure wouldn't want to have to worry about it anymore," Lenni agreed. "I had studied so much for it already. I'm glad that it wasn't an English test, at least."

The brunette girl suddenly turned to Rob. "So, Rob, how's everything going with you?" she asked. "Are you still seeing the specialist? It's about a week that you're going, right?"

Rob nodded a bit sullenly. "Yeah, it's still scheduled for then."

He inwardly sighed. At least his father had not wanted to see a specialist yesterday after hearing about the time skips, although, he had stated that Rob should record when any of them happened so that they would have the information to take with them to the specialist. It was rather annoying- it was almost like he was to record periods of insanity. At least he was not in a hospital, though.

Hopefully his friends would not see a copy of his chart- his father had said to keep an extra- currently in his backpack. Also, he was to make yet another chart of any type of collapsings. He sure hoped that both charts would actually come in handy somehow. It was just plain weird- not to mention rather disturbing- making them in the first place.

Alex spoke up. "So did anything happen since Monday? You know, since you fainted on the way to school?"

Rob scowled slightly at the reminder at the blunt wording while wincing inwardly a bit. There had been yet another collapsing without him becoming unconscious about an hour before he would usually go to bed yesterday, which had meant another stupid ambulance ride. Like the other time, he had been fine a while afterward, but not without the horrendous headache, dizziness and frightening exhaustion that he just could not move much. Also, both his mother _and_ father now knew about the time skips . . .

Various letters suddenly flew from around the room to their table. Rob sighed in relief. At least he did not have to tell his friends about the time skips currently.

"Whoa, Ghostwriter's got something!" Alex exclaimed as the letters went together to form a somewhat lengthy message. "Maybe it's something about that John guy again."

Lenni rushed to her locker to get some paper and pencil while the rest of them silently read another letter from Kendrick, with yet more random remarks.

_Hallo John,_

_(Bear with me the greeting, yes?_ _Like a Martian to their home planet, it will forever stay.)_

_So, Theodore Ross seems to have gone down a black hole._ _That in itself is slightly worrying right there._ _I would love to find at least some of his family, but unfortunately, apparently they seem to be new to the area and no one can find them yet._ _It would be quite nice if some simple direction potion will lead us to him; however, I have not yet perfected that type of magic yet._

_Kendra would disagree- she says that my sense of direction is the best on Jupiter- Oh wait, she's right here._ _Now she is saying that I should wholly reconsider the concept of direction for this singular mission, and work on location instead._ _Ah, the fine art of a peaceful asteroids among the stars._ _How many have left their areas and have wandered off to the nether most parts of the universe without worrying once about direction._ _Perhaps they lead to nice planeterial theme parks somewhere, with lava rides and moon walking exhibitions._ _I would certainly hope not for Theodore with the part about the edge of the universe, but, so it may be._ _They could be even enjoying themselves on Pluto somewhere._ _Wouldn't that be nice to join them?_ _Perhaps there they would have powered telescopes for military bases._ _Now that would be useful, instead of relying on guest IDs._

_So, I send you a few more names of military children, along with a probable location._ _These were quite lucky to find- Oh, Kendra says that I found them by sheer skill, but I would rather hold to the opinion that it was quite lucky that a barrel chanced to fall straight in front of me- one full of tomatoes, at that._

_Kaya Hasekura, daughter of Major Kazuo Hasekura  
_                                                                                 _Imari Handa, son of Captain Jirokichi Handa_

_Both of these are dated from four years ago, on March 3rd in the Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii._ _I have no clue of any possible relation between the two children; friendship, family, random visitor from the galaxy or otherwise, but both are possibly in the region of the town of Kitten (yes, Kitten), New York, to another town just below it, called Grengy._ _I certainly hope that the latter does not have any sort of trap caves, filled with goblins._ _That would slow down any search._

_Hope this finds you well on the planet that so happens to be the third one from the sun._

_Best regards,  
_ _Kendrick_

_Oh, Kendra wants to add something.  
_ _Kendra says hi from Mars. I liked the book._ _It was awesome._

Rob looked at Lenni while she scribbled down the words still hanging in the air on the left side of their table in one of her school notebooks.

"Got it," she stated, putting down her pencil.

As if in response, the message faded from the air. Rob could see Ghostwriter hovering by Lenni's notebook, though, as if waiting for any questions.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So that Kendrick guy is sending John on another hunt," he said, putting a hand on his chin. "I wonder why he won't do it himself?"

Jamal shrugged. "Maybe he can't, because he's doing something else," he suggested.

"Like looking after Kendra?" Lenni asked.

Alex was frowning. "Kendra doesn't seem that little," he said. "She wrote that last bit on the letter."

Rob spoke up. "Yeah, that book title that Ghostwriter sent that John had possibly gotten for Kendra was a chapter book, for about a fourth grade reading level, even though it has a lot of illustrations."

"Maybe her dad read it to her," Lenni suggested. She put a hand to her chin, her other hand absent mindedly bouncing her fork slightly on the container. "I wonder why Kendrick sent John a date for the names?" she asked. "What could be important about that?"

"Well, we don't know why Kendrick and John are searching for those people in the first place," Jamal pointed out. "That would be important to know."

"Why don't we ask Ghostwriter?" Alex asked. "Maybe John has something about it now."

Lenni nodded, picking up her pencil again. "It's worth a try," she said.

She wrote down the request. Ghostwriter instantly circled it, and Rob watched the colorful sparks fly out of the cafeteria through one of the walls.

They resumed eating for a little while, until Ghostwriter came back with brief message.

_Nothing related nearby._

Rob saw Alex slouch. "Ah, man," the Latino boy pouted, scowling a bit as the message faded. "Why couldn't he find anything?"

Jamal shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe John doesn't want anyone else to find the information that he knows."

Alex suddenly perked up. "Hey, maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe he's a military spy, like in the secret service. He could even be looking for people that know about terrorists and all that."

" _Terrorists?_ " Lenni exclaimed, while Rob scowled. His father had _nothing_ to do with terrorists . . . he hoped, anyway. He actually did not know a lot of what his father had done while deployed.

Thankfully, Jamal was looking a bit doubtful. "That's a little farfetched, especially since they're after the kids."

Alex shrugged. "Maybe their fathers know something."

"I'm still with the opinion that it's something else," Jamal stated.

"But what?" Lenni asked. "Even if both of the lists are old, they're still looking for them, including Rob."

Rob saw Alex look at him. "So you'll tell us if you happen to see them, even if they say that it's super-secret, right?" he asked.

Rob shrugged. "I guess," he said, almost rolling his eyes at the Latino boy's spy theory.

The bell soon rang, and Rob followed his friends out of the cafeteria. It was too bad that both the knowledge about his mysterious condition and about the Kendrick and John correlations kept on going in circles, with no one really coming up with much.

* * *

Rob sighed as he filled out another line on his "time skip" chart in his bedroom. It was for three days after the last. He scowled as he copied the information for the extra chart in his backpack, then replaced both into their usual places.

Rob frowned as he closed the bottom drawer of his desk shut. At least he did not have to post either type of chart in plain sight in his room. That would definitely be extremely awkward, especially if his friends chanced to come over again, like they had after school when he had collapsed right in the middle of a rally meeting at Jamal's house yesterday after school. It was embarrassing enough making the charts in the first place. Hopefully he could stop after seeing the specialist next Tuesday.

His mother knocked on the door.

Rob sighed. "Come in," he called, slinging a strap of his backpack over his desk chair.

The door opened, and his mother poked her head in. "Jason's on the phone," she said. "Do you want to talk to him?"

Rob flinched. Of course his mother would think to tell Jason about his dumb condition . . . right? Like Rob, she sent a letter regularly, though not quite so often. Due to the high costs of long distance calls, Jason did not call often- with both him and the other person on the end of the line using a teletypewriter for the call, since of course Jason could not hear, or really speak. It seemed that Jason calling now, of all times, would mean that he knew about the mysterious condition, time skips and all, though.

He then slightly berated himself. Since when did he _not_ want to talk to Jason? Jason was his friend, his brother that had been sent away, and he hardly ever saw him. Rob could not pass up a chance to talk with him, however embarrassing it might be.

He nodded. "Yeah, sure," he answered, walking toward the door.

His mother smiled some as she moved toward the open door of the study. "Just make sure to make it less than two hours," she stated.

Rob rolled his eyes at the usual reminder and walked toward the kitchen phone, where the cradle was off the hook. His father came in through the door just then. After greeting him, Rob on a stool at the small counter, he saw what had to be Jason's last message to their mother still on the small screen of the teletypewriter.

The message instantly disappeared as he began typing on the small keyboard below the screen.

_Hi, Jason,_ he typed, then pressed the Send key.

A few seconds later, a message popped up from his brother. _Hi there, buddy! How're you doing in Brooklyn?_

Rob grinned at the friendly greeting. Maybe Jason actually didn't know about the condition after all.

He typed a response. _Pretty good, I guess. I went to a new park with my friends and Tina's little sister._ _Guess what it's called?_

_Fort Skywalker?_ Jason jokingly wrote back.

Rob rolled his eyes at the _Star Wars_ reference, but was still grinning at the same time. _Try Fort Night Cat. And no, not everything is cat-themed, but some things are, including with some pretend cars with ears and a tail on them._

_Are there any Ninja cats?_

Rob laughed. _Yeah, actually. There's a few of them painted on some benches, and also a couple of things where you can throw things through the holes and they come down from a chute on the other side._ _Linda had fun with that._

_Sounds neat._

_Yeah, it's actually a pretty fun park,_ Rob responded. _There are a lot of gliders and tire swings, and even tires you can climb through._

_Gliders are fun._ _I liked those._ _It's too bad the park nearby that Jiyo and I go to don't have any._ _How is climbing through tires?_

_Like a tunnel with they're all together, except you've got to watch out for all of the dips from the inside of them._ _There's more than one tire tunnel, including some where you can climb out through the top._ _Gaby scared Alex at the top of one of those._

They talked some more about the park for a while, including Jason stating that he wanted to go to it. Rob's grin then instantly turned into a frown when he saw his brother's next message.

_So, Mom said that you've been having some medical problems,_ Jason typed.

Rob stared at the message. So Jason did know after all.

He was surprised to see another message come from Jason. _I hope you get better soon. Even if you're not, I'll definitely still be seeing you in about a month, or earlier, if I can._

Rob looked at the words, surprised. _You would still come?_ he typed shakily.

Jason's next message came less than ten seconds later. _Of course. Why wouldn't I?_

He thought of Ghostwriter's words from three days before. Maybe the ghost was right after all.

Rob then frowned, his relief fading. Jason did not know exactly all that might happen during the "time skips". He had not told his mother, or father what had occurred in the first one, where he had apparently gone into some sort of furious rage . . .

But maybe he could tell about it, after all. His brother still wanted to come visit, even knowing that something was wrong in the first place.

Rob began to type again. _Thanks. It's really-_

He stopped typing, wincing as he put one hand to his head as a headache suddenly came. Suddenly, the ache burst into a constant piercing throb. At the same time, he felt himself slump forward, then topple onto the hard tiled floor.

Rob closed his eyes against the constant pain and immense vertigo. Why did it have to happen _now?_

Some heavy footsteps came running into the kitchen. He felt a large hand that had to be his father's large hand touch his right wrist.

The same hand then shook his shoulder. "Rob, look at me," his father's voice said, sounding quite commanding.

Rob forced his eyes open some to see his father spinning around and around. Through the vertigo, his saw his father nod, then stand.

He closed his eyes even as felt his father call to his mother, then pick him up and lay him on the couch. Almost distantly, he heard him say to his mother that he was going to call for another ambulance. Rob was slightly annoyed at that, even with the pain. Maybe his father would just hang up on Jason, and his brother would think that he did not want him to come after all.

* * *

" _Seriously?_ " Alex said, his face utterly surprised. "The special didn't find out anything?"

Rob sighed and nodded. He had just told the team at some outside tables at an ice cream place that the specialist was as baffled as the doctors at the hospital.

Tina was frowning as she held her ice cream cone, not seeming to notice that some of the frozen chocolate mixture had dripped onto the table. "That's scary," she said. "It's just like Gaby with the perc."

Gaby shrugged, taking another lick of her strawberry cone. "Sort of," she replied.

"So are you going to see another specialist?" Lenni asked.

Rob shrugged. "Yeah, and my parents were talking to some other doctor about me staying at a hospital for a bit so that they can, you know, study conditions more when they actually happen."

Jamal was looking concerned. "I hope they actually find something."

Rob huffed. "Yeah, no kidding." He had been lucky- so far- that none of the "time skips" had occurred around his friends again. There was no telling how long things would stay like that, though.

Lenni then thankfully changed the subject. "So, have you figured out anything else about John or Kendrick?" she asked, slurping some of a caramel and vanilla cone.

Rob nodded. "Some. John's in Connecticut. Kendrick was really happy that he found one of the kids from the last two names that he sent." He then frowned. "Then he seemed really sad about something that happened in New Jersey. He didn't say about what, but he wished that he could have stopped it."

"Maybe it was something that had happened before, and so he didn't need to tell John what it was, since he already knew," Jamal suggested.

Rob shrugged. "I guess," he replied.

"Did something happen to Kendra?" Lenni asked.

He shook his head. "No, she had written something on the letter, so she was at least fine when he sent it."

"Like she did last time," Gaby added. She bit into the bottom of her cone.

Jamal then got out a sheet of paper and asked Ghostwriter to again look for more clues. It seemed that they were destined to be disappointed, though.

_Sorry. There is nothing nearby correlating with the letter._ _Maybe most of the information is stored somewhere else, or is even mostly shared orally?_

"Maybe Kendrick has the information," Gaby said, slumping downward a bit, resting her elbows on the table as put her chin on her hands.

"That might actually be right," Jamal stated. "And also the part Ghostwriter said about things not being written down, at least with John."

Alex frowned. "That's gotta lead to nowhere if Ghostwriter can't find where Kendrick is."

His sister sat up. "He said something happened in New Jersey. Maybe he lives there?"

Alex glared at her. "Like we have a phone book for New Jersey hanging around nearby," he scoffed.

Lenni finished her cone and spoke up. "Could something have been on the news?" she suggested. "If the thing that had happened was big enough, then maybe someone around here has heard about it."

"Or it could be in a national newspaper," Tina said.

Rob shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "There's still the newspapers for the week at my house. I can check them tonight."

"I can, too," Lenni agreed. "We can see if we can come up with anything."

Gaby was grinning. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Unfortunately, they did not come up with anything. Rob saw Gaby's frustration increase at the inability to solve the Kendrick and John Mystery, as she had termed it. Ghostwriter could not find anything from Kendrick except in yet another vague letter to John.

Then in a blur of panicky weeks, Rob went to another specialist, and then another, with the same frustrating lack of results. A few day hospital stay revealed the same, except slight evidence of possibly seizures when any collapsing happened, and surprisingly, the "time skips" as well, but nothing was found what caused them. Rob was really annoying to stay there when he felt fine most of the time, though he did not say anything to his parents, who were already stressed enough.

Jason had been allowed another phone call, as he was still unable to come visit yet. Rob was kind of glad for that, especially when he had collapsed on the stairs that led to Jamal's house and had a sore wrist for several days. It would have been quite annoying to not be able to use sign language as much, like he and Jason still liked to do sometimes when they were together, even though Jason could read lips now.

His friends finally found out about the time skips when Alex had demanded what in the world was going on when he had apparently been laughing loudly right in the middle of a Home Ec class, and had been taken out into the hallway. The Latino boy had not taken any sort of silence or excuse for an answer. Rob still was not exactly sure how his friends took that- Gaby sometimes looked a bit nervous when he was with them.

The symptoms went on- collapsing, the sort of collapsing, and the time skips, sometimes in that order, and others times not. The mystery about Kendrick and John had practically all been forgotten as Rob saw his father's tense face, as well as his mother's concerned one every day, wondering why they could not find any sort of explanation for their son's condition.

Then, one day at yet another doctor appointment, a different doctor that had slightly grey-brown hair came in with the one that they had just seen. Rob watched him frown where he sat on the examination table. The other doctor had left to talk to some other people about something really quick, and now was back.

The new one was not one that he had seen before, and obviously had been in a rush of some sort as his nametag was upside down, and the top button of his white coat undone. Rob did not look at his father, but it seemed that he would frown at that. The other doctor, named Dr. Grady, did not seem to notice it- at least not yet, or just was ignoring it- as he introduced the new person.

"This is Dr. Whittington," he said, gesturing to his partner.

Dr. Whittington nodded, and shook hands with his parents.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs., uh . . ." He frowned a bit.

"Baker," Rob's father supplied.

"Right, Baker," he said, nodding and smiling at the same time.

The doctor then held out a hand to Rob and shook hands with him briefly. Rob was rather surprised. That was different than many of the other doctors, who only seemed to think that he was some problem to be diagnosed and only spoke with his parents and various medical personnel.

Dr. Whittington then spoke up again. "So, what's your name, young man?" he asked him.

"That's my son, Rob," Rob's father answered.

The doctor nodded. "Ah, hello then, Rob," he said friendlily. "So I am Dr. Whittington, as Dr. Grady already said."

Dr. Grady's mouth twitched slightly. "They, ah, might be able to see that better if your nametag was the correct direction."

The other doctor looked down, obviously surprised. "Oh, goodness," he exclaimed. "How did that happen?"

He then twirled the tag around, but somehow turned it in a full circle before looking up so that his name was still upside down.

Dr. Whittington then looked up and smiled. "There, that should be better," he said. He then looked at it again. "Oh, excuse me. It still seems to be the wrong direction!"

He turned around again, this time right-side up. The doctor looked up and grinned. "There. That's better, yes?"

Rob could not but help grin a little at the cheery doctor. The whole name tag thing was even perhaps some sort of act that he often did with younger patients. Perhaps the undone button would come next.

Unfortunately, his father was not amused. "If you're done playing games, perhaps you could tell us why you're here?" he asked sternly.

Rob frowned at his father's tone. Why did he have to be so stern with one of the few doctors that actually practically knew that he existed?

Fortunately, Dr. Whittington did not seem to be annoyed at all. On the contrary, he smiled before speaking. "Well, sorry that I happen to be a bit rushed," he said. "I had just flown from Connecticut on a visit with my son today. Just a couple of hours ago, I overheard some doctors discussing a patient with an unknown condition. So I asked about it, and quite to my amazement, the symptoms actually sounded quite familiar."

Rob saw that his father frown has lessened. "Familiar?" he asked, as if for confirmation.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, I have heard of it before, quite actually. This is the third time that I have met someone with the same sort of symptoms, and I have read more about it, for what it's worth. "

"Do you actually know what it is?" Rob's mother asked. Her voice shook a little, but Rob hardly noticed as he looked at Dr. Whittington.

The slightly grey-haired doctor smiled some, almost sadly. "Yes, I know of a diagnosis," he responded.


End file.
